


The Ravagers

by lyndsie_l



Series: Ravagers [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Croatoan/Endverse, BAMF Castiel, Castiel/Dean Winchester UST, Croatoans, Human Castiel, Lots of UST, M/M, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Non-Consensual Touching, Not Beta Read, Not Endverse, Orphans, Raids, Slow Build, Underage Dean, Violence, Virgin Dean, seriously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-01
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-02-23 12:25:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 11
Words: 48,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2547446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyndsie_l/pseuds/lyndsie_l
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While on a run into town in this post-apocalyptic world, sixteen year old Dean Winchester is captured by a group of Ravagers, those that are bent on destruction, thievery, and murder. Or, at least, that's what he had been taught they were like.</p><p>When Dean meets Castiel, a Ravager Leader, he starts to re-think what he'd been taught as a child. He begins to discover that perhaps some Ravagers aren't as bad as he thought, and perhaps this is the place where he truly belongs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I'm very excited for this new series I've created! Although, it is not the first fan fic I've written, it's the first one I'm sharing with the world, so I hope you enjoy it! 
> 
> This particular work is Part One in the series. The entire story is written, so it should be updated fairly regularly (I'm thinking twice a week).
> 
> Please comment on what you think! I love constructive criticism (I'm trying to become a better writer), but I ask that you are still polite.
> 
> I apologize for any grammar/spelling mistakes that are made. This is not beta read, and although I tried to edit it myself, you can only do so much.
> 
> Thank you again for reading!

Dean crouched down behind pile of rubble, forcing himself to breath as quietly as he could. He listened to the footsteps and voices of those around him, hoping they wouldn’t find him here. At 16, he knew how to handle himself in a fight, but wasn’t stupid enough to take on a group: especially a group of Ravagers.  


Dean felt disgusted, even thinking the word in his head. He had been taught that Ravagers were ruthless, blood-thirsty monsters and he cursed his luck for stepping out into a group of them. He remembered Miss Julie’s stories of how they were the lowest of the low and Mother DeAnna’s explanation of her hatred against them because they had killed her husband and son.  


Although Dean had never felt any connection to Miss Julie or Mother DeAnna, he still understood their sorrow, having lost his own parents long ago.  
He was only 4 when his mother had passed away in a fire, and was delivered to the orphanage he was staying at now when he was 7. He didn’t care where he was, as long as he was with his little brother Sam.  


The orphanage was a large compound that held a couple dozen children with Mother DeAnna and Miss Julie to watch over them and teach them. Sam loved the compound and had immediately fit in with the other children.  


Dean hated it.  


So, when Mother DeAnna requested that a couple of the children run to the Main Town to try and find some medicine for little Timmy’s fever, Dean had jumped at the chance. He loved visiting the Main Town and was always glad for an excuse to leave the compound, even for a just a little while. Dean had gone with Adam, one of the younger kids, thinking this would be an easy find.  


What they stumbled upon instead was the ruins of the once lively town. Dean’s heart dropped as him and Adam cautiously stepped out among the rubble, each of them glancing nervously at the other wondering: what happened here?  


Dean ordered Adam to stay quiet as they crept into the empty store, quickly searching for the medicine they had come to find.  
There was an eerie feeling in the dead town, and he wondered who had brought this town to its demise. It was only a moment later that he heard them.   


_Ravagers._  


He whispered harshly at Adam to hide, finding him a hole and covering the rubble so he was completely out of view, barely scrambling out of sight himself before several jeeps came screeching to a halt, a dozen ravagers jumping down from the vehicles.  


“Ravage away,” one of them called out, receiving several loud hoots and hollers in agreement.  


“Don’t forget the treaty,” another gravelly voice called back.  


“Yeah, yeah,” the first voice called back begrudgingly, muttering beneath his breath, "You and your damn treaty.  


Dean sat there, listening to the jeers and jibes these bandits shouted at one another as they filled bag after bag with things left behind by the deserted members of the town. He waited for what felt like hours, not daring to move, before he finally heard footsteps fading away. There was the sound of one of the jeeps honking as it squealed off.   


He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. They were almost gone. He was so close to being able to grab Adam and go back to the compound.  


Although he himself didn’t care to be back behind the confined walls, Dean knew he couldn’t let Adam down or Sammy down. They had to make it back. He had to stay safe, keep them safe, for their sakes.  
His heart dropped as he heard the sound of gravel crunching beneath someone’s feet from behind him. Dean slowly turned around, finding himself face to face with a tall, black man whose eyes were narrowed down at his crouched figure.  


“What the hell are you doing here?” he asked, mostly to himself, as he watched Dean closely.  


Dean stood slowly, taking a stance to show he would fight if he had to. He wasn’t going to go down easily.  


“I’m armed, and I will fight you,” Dean said confidently, pulling out a small pocket knife he’d inherited from his dad before being dropped off at the orphanage.  


The man looked back at him, a slight smirk creeping onto his amused face. He ignored Dean completely and instead called out, “Yo Wings. Check out what I found.”  


Dean debated making a run for it, curling his fingers tightly against the blade in his hand. The sight of the Ravager’s gun was the only thing that kept him in his place. He knew he could out run this man, but there was no way he could out run a bullet.  


Two men joined the group, causing Dean to want to sink back down to the ground. Fighting one Ravager would be a challenge, but fighting three? He couldn’t imagine a scenario where he came out of this alive. He thought back to Sam, hoping that his younger brother would forgive him for being caught and that he would be okay without him. As long as he stayed at the Orphanage, he had to be.   


One of the men, a large man with scruff and an accent, scratched the scruff on his face and asked, “What's this about, brother?”  


“He was just hiding out here,” the black man replied with a shrug, as he turned to look at the third man who took a step forward.  


Dean watched this third man carefully, taking in lean figure, messy black hair, and mesmerizing blue eyes. He found himself gazing into those eyes which simply stared back into his, neither moving nor changing. The man tilted his head to the side slightly, just watching, waiting.  


“What do you want to do with him, Wings?” The accented man asked, glancing in between the two, clearly anxious to have a decision be made and move on.  


“Should we shoot him?” The black man asked, patting his gun to show he would be ready to shoot on this man’s command.  


Wings continued to stare at Dean unblinkingly, causing Dean to shuffle his feet nervously as he tried to keep their eye contact steady.  


“I’m not going down without a fight,” Dean growled finally, leaning forward to show he was ready to attack if they came to close. Perhaps if he showed them he was ready to fight, they wouldn't want to deal with him, and leave him be.  


“No,” Wings answered surprisingly, in that deep gravelly voice he had heard before, his eyes dancing with amusement, “I suppose you’re not.”  


Dean looked back at the man now that their eye contact had broken and studied him further. He looked to be at least 10, maybe 15 years older than Dean was. He had several guns strapped to his body and a couple of full duffel bags strapped around his chest.  


There were a few more shouts and hollers as a couple more Ravagers came strutting around the corner. Dean almost dropped his pocket knife in disappointment. Perhaps he would be lucky and his death would be quick. He’d heard rumors of Ravagers torturing others for their own entertainment, and didn’t want his death to be drug out more than it had to be. He knew there was no way he could survive a fight with these men.  


“What’d you find here?” A tall, blonde man sneered, eyeing Dean hungrily.  


“That’s none of your concern, Christian,” the black man who had originally found Dean spat back.  


Christian laughed, never taking his eyes from Dean.  


Wings stared at Dean for another moment seemingly unconcerned with the additions that had come along their way. He torn his eyes away from Dean and looked around the surrounding area carefully, asking curiously, “Are you here alone?”  


Dean stared at him, blankly, before he realized the man was addressing him.  


“W-what?” Dean asked stupidly, cursing himself for his stumble.  


“Are - you - here - alone?” Wings repeated, emphasizing each word, as though it were painful for him to be speaking to Dean as though he were a dumb child who needed to be scolded. Dean wondered if that’s exactly what he looked like to this man in front of him.  


Dean ignored the laughter of the Ravagers who were slowly gathering around him. More had joined the group and there had to be about half a dozen there now, all watching him eagerly.  


“Yes,” Dean replied immediately, hoping Adam was smart enough to stay hidden with the medicine until the Ravagers were gone.  


Wings narrowed his eyes, as though he knew that Dean was lying, but didn’t address it. He thought for a moment before he asked, “What are you doing here?”  


Dean shrugged, now only half listening as his eyes darted from each person, wondering how the hell he was ever going to get out of here.  


Wings watched him carefully for another moment, seemingly debating with his self, before taking a deep, almost defeated breath as he called out, “We're done here!”  


He turned from Dean to face the black man and spoke, “Victor, grab the kid and let’s go. I want to be back at camp tomorrow before sundown.”  


Victor nodded, throwing his gun back behind his back and stepped forward to grab Dean. On instinct, Dean shoved his knife forward, trying to hit Victor, but was easily blocked, his knife flying from his hand onto the ground.  
The man towered over him, easily pulling his gun back around so it was pressed tightly against Dean’s chest, and spoke softly, “Don’t struggle, don’t fight, and don’t shout: do any of these things and you die. You understand?”  


Dean nodded, gritting his teeth together.  


Christian spoke, getting everyone’s attention, as he placed his hands in front of Wings, preventing him from moving forward.  


“Woah, woah, woah. Who said you get the kid?”  


Wings narrowed his eyes, “I found him. I keep him. Those are the rules.”  


“What do you want for him?” A tall, busty girl with long brown hair drawled as she stepped forward, eyes focused on Wings.  


“Nothing,” Wings replied shortly.  


“C’mon, Clarence,” the woman spoke, reaching forward to lightly brush his arm, “You barely got enough food to feed who you’ve got. Trade me for him. I’ll give you a fair deal. Plus, I know Alastair will love the present.”  


Dean felt chills go down his spine. He opened his mouth to shout out at them that he was not property to be traded, but felt a jab in his side from Victor, warning him to stay quiet.  


“Let me state this clearly,” Wings spoke deeply, causing more chills to run down Dean’s spine, but for different, unfamiliar reasons.  


“I found him. I want him. So he is mine. He is not for sale and no trade you could offer will change my mind. Understand?”  


Christian grumbled in agreement, obviously not happy, and Meg just sighed.  


“Well, alright, I’ll just have to find myself another one.”  


Dean froze, watching them carefully, trying not to let his face give anything away.  


_Please don’t find Adam. Please, please don't let them find Adam._  


“What are you talking about?” Wings asked annoyed, watching Meg as she stepped around him to scan around the area.  


“Children don’t often travel alone,” Meg answered as she rolled her eyes, “I’d be willing to bet there’s more of the rugrats hiding out, just waiting to be found.”  


She laughed and called out with a shrill, “Come out, come out, wherever you are!”  


_Stay hidden Adam. Don't let them find you. Please don’t let them find him._  


Wings frowned, “The kid already said he was alone. You’re wasting your time.”  


Meg scoffed, “You really think he was telling the truth?”  


Wings pointed at Dean, “Look at him. You really think the kid could pull a lie out of his ass like that?”  


Dean glared at the blue-eyed man and spat out before he could stop himself, “I know how to lie, asshole.”  


Victor flicked Dean in the side of the head, causing him to yelp out in pain while the group laughed at him, none of them taking him seriously. Dean felt frustrated, but realized that it was probably a good thing in this case.  


“He’s adorable,” Meg exclaimed, “Are you sure I can’t convince you to give him to m-”  


Wings grabbed his rifle, pointing it so the barrel was flush against Meg’s temple and spoke softly, “You finish that question and I’ll shoot you, treaty be damned.”  


Dean looked around noticing the atmosphere immediately tensed up, everyone’s hands resting on their own weapons. Christian seemed to be the only one who was semi-relaxed, merely watching the two with interest, as he eagerly waited to see what was about to happen.  
After several long painful moments, Meg held her hands up in surrender and Wings carefully lowered his gun.  


“Well, this has been fun,” Christian spoke, rolling his eyes at the two as though this happened often, “But, I think it’s our time to go. If there are any kids left out here, I have no need for them.”  


Christian and another man walked off, leaving Meg with Wings, his two men, and Dean.  


“You’re probably right Clarence,” Meg said with a sigh, looking around one last time before her gaze landed on Dean, “Kid looks like he might pee his pants just standing there.”  


Dean shot the dirtiest look her could muster at the woman, and allowed himself to be dragged on, feeling grateful when she followed their group out, not looking for any more kids.  
She left for another vehicle, which left Dean alone with Wings, Victor, and the burly man with the accent.  


“What are you planning on doing with him?” the third man asked Wings curiously.  


Wings stayed silent, motioning for the others to hop into the Jeep.  


Victor pushed Dean into the back seat, hopping up into the front himself. Dean stumbled back, looking around quickly while Wings patted the side of the vehicle and told the driver to start going.  


A woman turned around and stared at Dean, “What’s this?”  
“Just drive, Dorothy,” Wings replied.  
Dorothy sighed, flipping her brown hair back and muttering, “Jess is going to kill you.”  


The Jeep’s rumble startled Dean as it began to move. Dean looked back at the town they were leaving behind and wondered if he should try and make a break for it.  


“I wouldn’t advise jumping.”  
Dean looked at the accented man in surprise. How had he known what he was thinking? Was he that transparent?  


“We’d shoot you dead before you even made it 5 feet,” the man explained happily.  


Dean slumped in his seat, resigned that he wasn’t getting away any time soon. He glanced back at the deserted town, glad that at least Adam wasn’t discovered. He hoped that Adam would be able to make it back to the Orphanage alright and that he would be able to tell them what happened. As long as his little brother wouldn’t try and sneak out to find him, most likely getting himself killed in the process, everything would be fine.  


It dawned on him that Adam would probably tell the others that he was dead, so there would be no reason for Sammy to leave the compound to find him. He felt his stomach twist as he sneaked a glance over at the man with the dark hair, wondering what his torture would be.  


They rode in silence, the wind blowing in their face, until Dean couldn't handle not knowing anymore, “What are you going to do with me?”  


Wings looked up surprised, as though he had forgotten that Dean was there with them.  


“Are you thirsty?” Wings asked, ignoring Dean’s question entirely, reaching back to grab a pouch full of water and handed it to Dean.  
Dean drank from it hesitantly, surprised to find it refreshingly cool. He handed it back to Wings, who drank from the pouch as well before offering it to the passengers in the front.  


“Why didn’t you kill me?” Dean asked again boldly, wondering if he was ever going to get some answers.  


“What’s your name?” Wings asked in response, ignoring his question again.  


Dean debated for a moment on whether or not he should answer. Why would he want to know his name? What did it matter if they were planning on killing him? He decided to take a chance and answered honestly, “Dean.”  


Wings replied politely, “Hello Dean. My name is Castiel.”  


Dean stared at the man in distrust, not knowing what he should do now. Great, they knew each other's names. Big fucking deal.  


Wings, or as he now knew as Castiel (which seriously, what kind of fucked up name was that?), spoke again, surprising Dean as he stated, “I know you’re from the orphanage.”  


Dean stared dumbly back at Castiel, “What?”  


Castiel shot him a look which sent shivers down Dean's spine and reminded him he shouldn't get too comfortable in the presence of this man, and replied, “You’re from the orphanage. I know it’s not too far from the Main Town. And I know you weren’t in that town alone.”  


Dean’s heart dropped thinking of Adam. He chose not to speak, waiting for Castiel to continue.  
“The only way your friends could stay alive was if I killed you or took you with us,” Castiel admitted, his face scrunching up as though he were feeling remorse.  


“Then, why couldn’t you just leave me, too?” Dean asked confused and more than a little upset.  


“Because then one of the other Ravagers would have come back for you,” the accented man chimed in, holding out his hand for Dean.  
“The name’s Benny, brother. And trust me when I say Castiel did you a favor back there.”  
Dean looked at Benny’s hand suspiciously, not willing to reach out and accept it. Benny dropped his hand, as though he hadn’t expected anything different.  


“I didn’t need any favors from you,” Dean spat, knowing it was a complete lie, but continued, “Besides, what’s so great about you. Why not just leave me to die?”  


Castiel narrowed his eyes at Dean, “The other Ravagers wouldn’t have killed you Dean. Not right away, anyway.”  


Benny spoke softly, “Imagine the worst possible pain and times that by one hundred. They wouldn’t have just hurt you. They would have tortured and raped you, tearing you down physically and mentally in every way possible.”  


Dean shuddered despite himself and turned to Castiel and asked accusingly, “And you won’t?”  


Castiel didn’t speak, but turned away to stare out at the desert.  


Annoyed, Dean tried again, “What are you planning on doing to me?”  


“Yeah, Wings,” Victor shouted from the front, annoyed, “What are you going to do with him?”  
Castiel ignored Victor as well, so Dorothy chimed in, “Jess specifically told us not to try and be big damn heroes…”  


“I’ll deal with Jess when we return;” Castiel interrupted Dorothy harshly, “What she and I chose to do with him is none of your concern.”  
Dorothy clenched her jaw, her lips in a thin straight line, and Dean waited for her argument. But, it never came. Victor as well huffed, but no more complaints came from him either.  


Satisfied, Castiel turned away from the rest of them, staring once again at the horizon, watching at the sun started to set. Dean studied Castiel’s profile, examining the scruff on his face and watching as the wind blew through his perpetual messy hair. There was something engaging about this man, something that was enticing Dean to keep staring, keep studying that Dean just couldn’t figure out. 

It was obvious that he acted differently from what Mother DeAnna and Miss Julie claimed a Ravager should be. He hadn't done anything to hurt Dean (not yet anyway) and had even gone as so far to imply that wasn't planning on hurting Dean. At least, not as badly as another Ravager might.  


Was it all an act? Why wouldn’t he tell Dean what his plans for him were if they were completely harmless?  


Benny coughed, grabbing Dean’s attention towards him, and held out a granola bar.  
“You should probably eat this. It’ll be a while before you can get any food.”  


Dean accepted the food, not making any moves to eating it as his stomach was still churning with the gravity of his current situation weighing on his mind.  
“You should probably get some rest; it’s still a while before we get back to camp,” Benny concluded, grabbing a small blanket rolled up as a pillow before he held it out for Dean.  


Dean grumbled, but accepted the blanket, accepting it for the nice gesture it was, and shifted in his seat at an attempt to get comfortable. He knew he wouldn’t be able to ask any more questions, not at that moment anyway, and decided his time would be better spent trying to come up with a plan for how he could possibly escape.  


It wasn’t over. Not yet. He _refused_ to give up so easily. He didn’t belong here…  


A small voice in his mind spoke up, reminding him that he didn’t really belong at the Orphanage either, but he brushed those thoughts away.  


One problem at a time.  


As he closed his eyes, thinking of different possibilities of his daring escape away from the _not-so-ruthless_ Ravagers, exhaustion crept into his mind, completely taking over as it pulled him into a deep, unwanted sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean moaned, his arm reaching up to try and block the sun shining in his eyes, desperately wishing he could catch a little more sleep. For whatever reason, he felt as though he had hardly slept at all, and his back was throbbing with a dull pain. Begrudingly, he dropped his arm, knowing there was no way he'd be able to get back to sleep and pried his eyes open. He blinked several times at an attempt to adjust to the bright light, and sat up, rolling his shoulders back, and stretching his neck to try and take care of the ever-present kinks. He looked around confused, realizing that he wasn't at the Orphanage like he thought he was, when the previous day’s memories flooded his mind.  


He groaned, putting his head in his hands in despair.  


“Sorry, brother,” Benny’s voice spoke softly from next to him, and Dean looked up hesitantly to watch him, “I’m sure you were hoping that was all a dream.”  


Dean chose not to respond; knowing there was no reason to and looked around the Jeep instead. Everyone else, other than him and Benny, had changed positions. Victor was driving in the front, with Castiel sitting calmly in the seat next to him. Dorothy was in the back seated next to Benny, scowling at the book she had in her hands.  


“What did you grab this for, Castiel?” Dorothy asked, waving the book around to show Castiel.  


Castiel shrugged, “I enjoy reading.”  


“It’s a waste of space,” Dorothy argued, contradicting herself as she gently placed the book back in the bags, careful to make sure it wouldn't get torn or hurt by any other item they'd retrieved.  


Dean watched Dorothy curiously as she looked through the items in their duffels, eager to see how they acted when their full attention wasn't on him. It wasn't long before his stomach grumbled loudly and painfully. Dean looked down and frowned at the offender, cheeks tinging red in embarrassment when he caught Dorothy smirk at the sound. He glanced around, and was grateful to discover that no one else seemed to have heard it.  


Figuring he wasn’t doing himself any favors by starving himself, he grabbed the granola bar Benny had given him the night before and slowly nibbled on it, remembering those times before he and Sam had arrived at the orphanage when there was never enough food for both him and his younger brother. He had always given up his food for Sammy, making sure he got enough to eat before Dean even thought about feeding himself.  


At least he didn't have to worry about Sam eating now. Being at the Orphanage, Sam was always guaranteed a meal.  


Dean kept quiet as he watched his surroundings carefully over the next few hours. Dread filled his stomach the further they drove. His granola bar sat like a rock in the pit of his stomach as he realized that there was a very good chance he would never see Sammy again.  


He forced himself not to vomit at the thought, closing his eyes and taking deep breaths.  


Sammy would be okay. He _had_ to be.  


After all, he was safe and sound back at the orphanage. Miss Julie and Mother DeAnna wouldn’t let him chase after Dean recklessly. In fact, with Main Town destroyed, Dean wondered if they were ever going to leave the compound. With their gardens and fruit trees, they had a source of food, and would likely be able to stay there forever.  


Dean shuddered, imagining escaping from the Ravagers, just to go back to that.   


With a startlingly realization, he knew that he couldn’t. 

He wouldn’t. 

He wasn’t meant to live a life behind a wall, imprisoned from the world.  


He spared a glance at the Ravagers whose company he was in and frowned. He wasn’t entirely sure that where he was now (kidnapped, in a Jeep full of Ravagers) was a better option. But he knew he couldn’t go back, not to live, anyway. He did want to see Sammy again, though, and tried to focus on what he could do to see him.  


He was pulled out of his thoughts when Benny tapped his shoulder, pointing ahead on the road, “Almost back to camp, brother.”  


Dean lifted his head, leaning to the side, letting his jaw drop. Their camp was set up like any other compound, with high concrete walls and a large iron gate blocking the entrance, but a dozen times larger than anything Dean had ever seen.  


They entered through the main gate, turning right down an alleyway, just big enough for their Jeep to fit through, leaving a trail of dust behind them as they drove much too quickly than they probably should have. They followed along the curved path for a short amount of time before pulling off suddenly into a small garage. Dean glanced around the large area that looked almost like a warehouse. Other than several other Jeeps, much like the one they were in, it looked to be completely empty.  


Dean watched each member of the group grab a couple of duffels each, throwing the bags over their shoulders along with their guns. He was surprised when Castiel stepped back, grabbing Dean’s arm and pulling him down from the Jeep, causing Dean to stumble as he tried to regain his footing on the ground.  


“Stick close to me and you won’t get hurt. Understand?” Cas ordered Dean, his voice sounding deeper and harder than it had the entire time Dean had been with them.  


“And what if I don’t?” Dean spat out angrily, unable to hold his tongue any longer as he attempted to pull his arm out of Castiel’s tight grip with no success, “who’s going to hurt me? You?”  


Castiel narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth to answer, but was stopped by Dorothy who stepped forward, smacking Castiel’s hand as a reminder to not clench so hard. Cas looked down at his fingers, surprise flickering across his face as he loosened his hold so he was no longer hurting Dean.   


Dorothy answered Dean's question, “You have nothing to fear from us. But, the other gangs? You’re a new piece of meat. A shiny new toy. And everyone’s gonna - want - you,” She spoke plainly, her finger tapping against Dean’s chest as she emphasized her words.  


Victor added, “The other gangs don’t do well with new comers. They’re selfish. They’ll want you for their own and they’re willing to play dirty to get you.”  


Benny picked up where Victor left off, finishing with, “Just stick close to Castiel, and you’ll be fine. No one will dare try to mess with you as long as you’re with him.”  


Dean looked at Castiel suspiciously, seeing that the man was staring back at him. Had he put the others up to this? Was all he was doing really just trying to protect Dean? He had no clue what they actually meant when they said the other groups would want him. What other groups? How many Ravagers were there in this place?  


But he wasn’t stupid. It would be suicidal for him to try and escape now, when he was completely surrounded by Ravagers and about to be led into a larger group of them. So far, this group had proved they were willing to keep their hands to themselves, for the time being anyway. He’d have to take his chances with them. He nodded at Castiel, showing he was willing to play nice for now, and not try and fight back. Castiel nodded in return, seeming to completely understand what Dean's intentions were.  


Castiel led the group, Dean sandwiched in between him and Benny, with Dorothy and Victor following closely behind. As soon as they stepped out of the garage, a short, jumpy man with a scruffy beard and a clipboard was waiting for them.  


“Oh good, you’re back,” he said, his eyes nervously skirting over each of them. His eyes stopped on Dean.  


“Can I ask who this is?” he asked apprehensively, pointing.  


“No,” Castiel spoke gruffly, ending the conversation before it even started.  


“Okay,” the man sighed in defeat, as though he were expecting that answer.  


Dean looked around, amazed that they were in what looked like a city. There were wooden fences, separating different areas from others, making it difficult to see too far ahead, but from what he could tell, it looked like there were small cabins lined up everywhere. Small groups of people here and there stepped forward, gawking openly at Dean as they walked past.  


They made their way into a large opening, in what Dean guessed what the center of the compound. He glanced in the very center, focusing his gaze on large wooden platform, resembling a stage. Dean looked at it curiously, wondering what it was used for when Cas bent out his arm, forcing him to stop. He turned to face forward, finding a few people blocking them from continuing on their way.  


There was a tall man standing in the middle, a sinister smile as his gaze focused in on Dean. Dean quickly averted this gaze, looking at the two women who stood on either side of him. He recognized Meg from before, standing back watching the scene gleefully. The other was a tall blonde with wide eyes.  


The blonde stepped forward smiling in a way that cause chills to run down his spine.  


“Well, well, Meg. You were right. What a nice surprise this is.”  


Dean glared at the group before him, feeling a sense of dread. There was no way this was going to turn out okay.  


The other man stepped forward, indicating that the woman should step back, which she did with a big pout on her face.  


“Evening Castiel,” the man spoke with a slight lisp, finally taking his eyes off of Dean and turning to the others.  


“Alistair,” Castiel spoke curtly, as though he knew it was customary to address others when being spoken to, but not wanting to associate with the man more than he had to.  


“I see you brought something extra home this hunt. Good find. I must admit, I find myself jealous you got to him first.”  


Dean glanced over at Castiel, feeling relief for the first time that he was with this man instead of Alistair. He didn’t know what Castiel was going to do to him, but his gut told him that it would be nowhere near as bad as what Alistair would do to him if he got a chance. Dean took a minuscule step towards Castiel, suddenly needing to feel his warmth against his side. Compared to this man, Castiel was a shining beacon in a cold, stormy winter night.  


“Is there something you need?” Castiel asked flatly, his fingers brushing against Dean’s wrist, causing Dean’s breath to falter slightly, and giving him exactly what he needed. The warmth from Castiel’s fingertips gave him far more strength and comfort than he cared to admit.  


Alistair’s eyes caught the small exchange and he smirked, “I was going to offer to take the kid off your hands for you, but it appears you’ve already got something in mind for him.”  


The girls behind him snickered, causing Castiel’s fingers to grasp around Dean’s wrist tightly, feeling more possessive than it had before. What did he mean? What did Castiel have in mind for him?  


Castiel spoke, “As I informed Meg earlier, he is not for sale or trade. If you have any questions or concerns, you may bring them up with Jess tomorrow in your meeting.”  


Alistair’s eyes danced with malice as he replied, “Oh, I will. Enjoy your evening. Let me know when you’re done with him. I’d very much like a turn as well.”  


Castiel stepped forward, only stopping when Benny reached over, placing his hand on Castiel’s shoulder. Castiel took a deep breath, tightening his grip on Dean and pulling him along roughly, walking past the group now catcalling after them.  


Dean glanced back at the retreating group, trying to ignore the sounds of the girls giggling behind them and caught, Alistair’s cold stare watching them.  


“What is he talking about?” Dean asked in a panic, realization of where he was and who he was with hitting him again.  


He was stupid to get comfortable with Castiel. He was a Ravager, a cold, blood-thirsty monster, like the rest of them. He wasn’t there to protect Dean.  


“Where are you taking me?” Dean asked, desperately trying to find more answers.  


When it was obvious that one wasn’t going to be answered, he switched tactics, remembering the creepy man’s parting words, “What turn was he talking about? Are you planning on sending me off to him when you’re done with me?”  


Castiel stopped abruptly, causing Dean to run into his side. He turned, his eyes narrowing at Dean and spat out, “As long as I’m alive, that scum will never touch you.”  


Their eyes locked onto the others, Dean’s green gazing into Castiel’s blue. Despite his reservations, he had no doubts that Castiel was sincere. He nodded, acknowledging that he understood and believe his words.  


Castiel took a deep breath, before continuing on. Dean turned to look at the group they were walking with. It was hard to see those behind him, but Benny looked just as angry as Castiel did.  


“Who was that man?” Dean demanded to know.  


After a moment of silence, when it was clear Castiel wasn't going to answer him, Benny spoke, “Alistair. He’s the leader of one of the other gangs.”  


“Gangs?” Dean asked confused, looking down as he caught himself before he tripped over some rocks. Castiel was walking much too quickly for him to not being paying attention.  


“Yes,” Benny replied simply, not bothering to elaborate.  


“I don’t understand," Dean said frustrated, thinking about to everything he'd been taught. He hated being so clueless. It left him feeling naive and vulnerable. He pressed on, "I thought Ravagers were every man for themselves."  


“A few still are,” Benny explained, his eyes staring forward as he easily kept pace with Castiel and Dean, whose wrist was still locked tightly beneath Castiel’s crushing fingers.  


“A lot of us now, though, have formed groups, which we calls gangs. In this particular compound, we have three different gangs. Each gang has one Ravager who is considered to be the leader of that gang, the one to negotiate and supposedly is supposed to help keep the peace among the gangs. Alistair is in charge of a particularly nasty gang. You don’t want to get into his line of sight.”  


Dean shuddered again, and asked hesitantly, “Whose group, I mean _gang_ , are you in?”  


Benny replied, “Jess is the leader of our gang with Castiel here as her second. We’re on our way to Jess' cabin now, so you'll get to meet with her shortly.”  


Dean nodded. No wonder the other members of the crew listened to Castiel when he spoke. He was surprised to hear that the Ravagers had formed alliances with each other and were well enough organized to have leaders. He wondered what else he didn’t know about them.  


Dean watched as they walked inside one of the gates, entering one of the camps. It dawned on Dean that the gangs must separate into different camp sites within the compound, in order to keep separate. He wondered why they all bothered staying here together, versus going out to search for a place of their own.  


He felt himself being pulled along as Castiel led the group up and around the different cabins in this gated area until they stopped suddenly in front of one in the middle. Dean examined the outside, not finding anything different or special about this place compared to the others they had passed. The cabins were small, made of wood with steps leading to the painted doors. Castiel knocked on the door once before opening it and pushing Dean inside before him, finally letting go of his wrist once her was in there.  


Dean rubbed his wrist with his other hand, trying to rid himself of the phantom fingers he still felt pressed against his skin, as he looked around the room. It was larger than he had expected. Much larger than the outside had made it seem to be. The main area had a round table covered in papers and maps in the center of the room. There was a desk off to the side with a chair and books stacked in piles in the corners.  


Dean scurried out of the way as he realized the rest of the group was shuffling into the room behind him, crowding the entrance of the doorway. He glanced through an open door, seeing a bed inside a small room. Dean tore his attention away to Dorothy who spoke, “Want the duffles out here or in your bedroom, Jess?”  


Dean turned to see who Dorothy was speaking to and stared at the woman. She was tall with long blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail and a thin, but curvy figure. She was standing at the table, pouring over the maps and Dean wondered how he had missed seeing her before.  


“Just on the floor is fine,” Jess spoke, her voice softer than Dean had expected, "Chuck and I will go through them all in just a minute."  


Dean stared at the woman incredulously. _This_ was the leader of their gang? She looked like she would be more fitted helping Mother DeAnna at the orphanage than leading a group of vicious Ravagers. Dean stared at her, feeling more confused than he had before.  
Dorothy, Victor, Benny, and Castiel dropped their bags in the center of the room and stepped back as they waited patiently, while Chuck shuffled nervously from the doorway, as though he wasn’t quite sure what he was supposed to do.  


Dean looked around, wondering what they were all waiting for. Based on the looks of apprehension on Castiel's face and the apparent excitement on Dorothy’s, Victor’s, and Benny’s faces, he guessed they were waiting for Jess to realize Dean was there. Upon closer inspection, he realized that Castiel actually looked a little nervous for the first time since he’d met him. Dean gulped, waiting for the inevitable.  


Sure enough, it was only another minute before Jess looked up suspiciously at the quiet in the room.  


“Why are you still here?” She grumbled, staring down the four, "And what're you looking at me like that for?"  


Their eyes flickered over to Dean, standing in the corner, and Jess’s gaze followed their eyes until they landed on Dean.  


“Castiel?” Jess asked, her eyes narrowing, but never leaving Dean’s face.  


“Yes, Jessica?” Castiel replied more pleasantly than Dean had heard him speak thus far.  


“Who the hell is this?” She asked testily.  


Castiel hesitated for a moment, so Benny chimed in helpfully, “He’s from the orphanage.”  


Jess tore her gaze from Dean to glare at Castiel, “Damn it, Cas!”  


Dorothy, Victor, and Benny all snickered as Castiel glared back at Jess.  


“What did I say before you left?” Jess asked, folding her arms over her chest.  


“What happened in Main Town was traffic, but we can not save everyone. We’re there for things and that’s it. No saving people.” Dorothy spoke smugly.  


“We weren't the only Ravagers there, Jess. The others saw him too. What was I supposed to do? Hand him over to Meg for Alistair to have?” Castiel asked, outraged.  


Jess bit her lip, looking up at the ceiling as though she were seriously debating if that were a good idea. Dean wondered what would happen to him if Jess decided that she didn’t want him. He wondered how much leeway Castiel had. Would he be kicked out of the compound? Given to Alistair?  


He was saved from finding out when she sighed in defeat, shaking her head, "No, I guess not."  


Jess walked around the the table and leaned against the front edge, putting herself just a couple of feet away from where Dean was standing, and said, “So, you’re from the orphanage, huh?”  


Dean quickly glanced at Castiel and Benny, wondering what he should do. What she asking him a question? Was he supposed to answer? Castiel was no help what-so-ever, as he merely glanced nervously in between Jess and Dean, looking as though he were just as lost about what Dean was supposed to do in this situation. Benny, on the other hand, smiled encouragingly and nodded, as though trying to assure Dean it was okay to talk to Jess.  


Dean sighed, deciding to answer Jess with a nod. This way, he was giving her an answer, but his smart mouth wasn't betraying him quite yet. He figured that as long as he was here, he might as well cooperate. He had come this far already. Jess appeared as though she was nice, but he reminded himself she was a Ravager. If she wanted, she could kill him on spot.  


“What’s your name?” Jess asked.  


“Dean,” he answered, finding no reason not to. He'd already told Castiel his name when asked, might as well tell Jess too. Maybe them knowing his name would humanize his a bit, make it less likely that they would try and hurt him.  


“Can you tell me what happened?” she asked politely.  


Dean hesitated before giving the simplified version, “I was in Main Town when I ran into these guys. They grabbed me, threw me into their Jeep, and brought me back here.”  


Jess frowned, seeming to not really like his simplified version. She turned to the others who nodded, confirming that that was pretty much exactly what happened.  


Jess stared at him before sighing, turning back to look at Castiel.  


“It’s the eyes, isn’t it?” she said accusingly.  


Castiel looked back at her annoyed, while Dean watched confused, "My eyes? What about my eyes?"  


Jess turned back to Dean and elaborated, “They’re just so _green_ and _innocent_. No wonder Castiel couldn't resist stepping in to be your hero.”  


She stood up, stretching her arms above her head and stated matter-of-factly, “You’re just too damn pretty for your own good.”  


Dean blushed, as a couple of the others chuckled to themselves. Dean looked over to see that Castiel was the only one who wasn't laughing. _Was_ that why Castiel chose to take him? Because he was attractive? Because his eyes were _green_?  


Jess walked back behind the table throwing her hands in the air and grunted, “I don’t care what you do with him. He’s all yours, Castiel. Just let me know by tomorrow morning so I can inform the other leaders during our meeting.”  


She turned to Dorothy, Benny, and Victor and said, “You three, scram. Unless you’re going to stick around and help with inventory, I don’t need you hovering. Get some rest and meet up in the morning.”  


They nodded, smirking at Castiel and Dean one last time before they walked out.  


“Chuck,” Jess called out, beckoning the small, timid bearded man to come all the way inside, “Start going through the bags. This haul is looking pretty good; we should have plenty to add to our storage.”  


Chuck nodded, scurrying in and grabbing a bag to place on top of the table, while Jess rolled up her maps to put away.  


Castiel stepped forward, coughing deeply to capture Jess' attention, “I don’t understand what you want me to do with him.”  


Jess shrugged, “Whatever you want, he’s your responsibility.”  


“Why?” Castiel asked annoyed.  


Jess laughed at his pain, “You brought him home. You get to keep him. Thems the rules, jackass.”  


“Technically, Victor found him,” Castiel grumbled, pointedly avoiding Dean’s gaze.  


“And I have no doubts you’re the one who ordered them to take him home,” Jess countered, her eyebrow raised knowingly, “He’s yours to keep.”  


Unable to hold his tongue any longer, Dean spoke up, “Look, let’s get one thing straight. I’m nobody’s to keep. Got it?”  


Jess and Castiel looked up at Dean, as though they were surprised he was there. The cabin was silent for a moment before Jess chuckled. It was a dark, humorless sound that startled Dean.  


“Hate to break it to ya, kid,” she spoke, her voice sounding a little dead, “But as long as you’re here, you’re stuck with us. And until we figure out what to do with you, you’re stuck with Castiel.”  


“I don’t understand why?” Dean whined, hating how he sounding even more like the child they were treating him as, but needing to know the answers, “Why can’t you just let me go?”  


Castiel scoffed, “You’re in the middle of the Ravagers compound. Do you really want to wander off on your own?”  


Dean was silent, thinking it through. No. He probably didn’t want to be on his own. But he wasn’t entirely sure that staying with Castiel was any better.  


“If you try leaving now, Alistair will grab you and claim you as his,” Chuck shuddered, speaking before Dean had a chance to respond.  


Jess frowned, “Alistair already wants him?”  


Castiel nodded, his face hardening once again, “He met us in the center on our way here.”  


Jess narrowed her eyes, thinking carefully before concluding, “All the more reason for him to stay with you, then. Alistair won't dare try and take him from you.”  


Castiel argued back, “Benny’s better at this than I am…”  


“I don’t care,” Jess shot back, clearly tired of the argument, "My decision is made and there's nothing you can say to change my mind. The boy's staying with you."  


There was a lull in the conversation, so Dean spoke up softly, “What do you mean when you say that Alistair will _‘claim me’_?”  


The room went still for several painful seconds. Dean hated that he had to ask. He suspected he knew the answer, but he had to know for sure.  


Castiel finally spoke, “Alistair is a sadist. If he were to get you, you become his new toy.”  


Dean looked at the three, finding Chuck who was purposefully staring at the floor, and Castiel who was conveniently avoiding Dean’s gaze. He caught Jess’s eye who was watching his reaction carefully.  


“What’s a sadist?” Dean asked boldly, pushing down his embarrassment at his lack of knowledge. He had to know, and the only way that was going to happen was if he asked.  


Chuck coughed awkwardly, while Castiel turned to Dean in disbelief as though he were shocked that Dean didn’t know what that was, which annoyed Dean further.  


Castiel spoke hesitantly, “Alistair gets off on torturing others.”  


Dean stared at them blankly, waiting for them to continue. This wasn’t ever anything they had talked about at the orphanage. They couldn’t blame him for not knowing this.  


Castiel looked over at Jess, clearly uncomfortable, so she chimed in simply, “He achieves sexual pleasure through inflicting pain on others. He tends to favor using a knife to inflict this pain, but he has a wide variety of things he does when forcing himself on others.”  


Dean looked at them in horror, “People do that?”  


Dean had never had sex before. He'd made out with girls, sure, but had never had the chance to go all the way. He had, however, enjoyed maturating. He was a healthy, teenage boy. He knew how to touch himself, how to make himself feel good. Although he hadn't done it nearly as often as he would have liked (there was rarely a moment of privacy back at the Orphanage), we was still well-versed in how to make himself peak with pleasure. Beyond that, he understood the concepts of sex, after all, that's what all his fantasies were of, but he had never imagined achieving orgasm through pain. He shuddered, not able to comprehend how that was possible.  


Jess shrugged, “Some people like it rough.”  


Castiel scoffed, “Liking it rough is completely different from inflicting pain.”  


“You would know,” Jess teased Castiel, causing Dean to turn red at the implication of Castiel liking his sex rough. He glanced over at Castiel, wondering what else he liked in sex, and shook his head, trying to rid the thoughts from his mind. Not only was _not_ the time to be thinking about sex, but thinking about one of his captors having sex was a recipe for disaster. If he allowed himself to continue dwelling on it, it would only hurt him in the end.  


Jess turned away from Dean, and continued from where she had left off, acting as though he hadn’t interrupted their conversation from before, “Castiel, I am officially putting Dean in your care. I expect you to give me an answer on what we’re doing with him when morning comes. Until then, that’s the end of it. Understand?”  


Dean watched in amazement as Jess stood her ground, even though Castiel towered several inches over her. For some reason, Castiel seemed threatened by the smaller girl, enough that he conceded. Castiel closed his eyes breathing in deeply, knowing he had lost the battle, and replied, “Fine.”  


He turned to Dean and nodded towards the door, “Let’s go.” He left the room, leaving the door behind him wide-open without even giving Dean a chance to respond. Dean stared at Jess for a moment before realizing that Castiel would leave him behind if he didn’t follow after him quickly.  


Should he go after him? Should he stay here and demand they take him back to the Orphanage (the one place he knew without a doubt he did not want to return to, no matter how desperately he wanted to see his little brother again)?  


He followed his gut, trusting it to make the best decision for him considering his circumstances and raced out of the door after Castiel. He didn’t know what was going to happen, or what Castiel planned on doing with him, but he figured that since he’d stuck around this long, it couldn’t hurt could stick around just a little bit longer.  


Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for those who have read and commented! Your words of encouragement and kudos make me as happy as Cas with a burger!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter as well! As a note, I absolutely love the idea of Jess and Cas being good friends, which is why I've included her as the leader. Although she was only in like 2 canon episodes, I still saw her as a strong female who refused to take anyone's crap. Hopefully, you'll all love her as much as I do!
> 
> Please comment and review! Once again, I appreciate any and all comments! You're all lovely and I love you all!


	3. Chapter 3

Dean jogged behind the fast-paced Castiel, weaving along the wide pathways in an effort to keep up. They had barely walked a couple of minutes from Jess' cabin when Castiel stopped abruptly. Dean quickly dug in his heels, being careful not to run into the other man, and looked up at the place they had stopped at. This cabin appeared to be smaller than Jess's and Dean doubted that this one held the two bedrooms that hers had had, but it did have a decent-sized porch on the front, with a couple of pretty comfy looking chairs. If there was a choice between the two, Dean thinks he would prefer the porch to the extra space inside.  


Castiel walked through the front door, not bothering to beckon Dean to come in after him, just leaving him outside to inspect the place. Dean pursed his lips, realizing that this cabin must be where Castiel lived.  


Should he follow in behind him? Wait to be invited in?  


He decided that since Jess had told him he needed to stick with Castiel, it was probably implied that Dean was going to follow Castiel wherever he went. So, he stood up a little straighter and stepped into the home, closing the door behind him.  


Taking a quick glance around, he could see that his earlier assumptions about the inside were right. Other than the one room, there appeared to be a small bathroom off to the side with a toilet and tiny shower, which amazed Dean. He never would have guessed that these cabins in the middle of nowhere would have plumbing. He returned his attention back to the main room, seeing a bed pushed up against the far wall and a red plush sitting chair in the corner completely surround by large piles of books.  


After his inspection, Dean's attention turned to Castiel, who was sitting down at the head of his bed, sighing in defeat. Castiel rubbed his eyes as he leaned back so he body was resting against the wall. Dean waited awkwardly by the door, not daring to take a step further into the room. Did Castiel not realize that Dean was there? Had he already forgotten about him?  


It was several long, painful minutes of silence and waiting, before Castiel noticed that Dean had yet to enter into the room.  


“You can sit down,” Castiel spoke gruffly, pointing to the soft armchair in the corner.  


Dean nodded as he forced himself to walk to the other side of the room, sinking into the spongy chair. He really hoped he wasn’t condemning himself to some awful fate by going along with this. He still wasn’t entirely sure if he could trust Castiel, or any of them, really. He had to keep reminding himself that they were Ravagers; which meant that they were manipulative and could not be trusted.  


Although . . . if he had to keep reminding himself of this fact, perhaps there was the chance that it wasn't actually a fact at all. After all, in the time that he'd been with them, they hadn't plundered or murdered or really done anything as terrible as the actions in the stories.  


Was it possible that the stories were embellished? That perhaps the Ravagers really weren't quite as bad as their reputation claimed them to be?  


The two men sat still in the quiet room, Castiel just relaxing on his bed while Dean hugged his knees close to his chest, getting comfy where he sat.  


“What are you going to do with me?” he finally asked, much more timidly than he had wanted to sound. He blamed it on the stillness of the room, making him seem quieter than he normally was. He waited for an answer, not really expecting one to come, seeing as he had yet to receive one, but felt he couldn't just sit in the silence peaceably without trying.  


Castiel sighed as he placed his head back into in his hands, rubbing his temples gently, and surprised him when he admitted softly, “I don’t know.”  


Dean hesitated, not quite knowing what that was supposed to mean. Deciding to go for it once again, he suggested hopefully, “You could always just let me go…”  


Castiel lifted his head, shooting Dean a sad look, "I really am sorry that you were caught up in all of this, but I can't just let you leave. It's not safe. I assure you, you're not a prisoner. We'll figure something out. Together.”  


Dean frowned, his mind racing at the implications. _Together?_ What, they were going to let him decide his own fate?  


Dean snorted at the idea, finding that unlikely. After all, the hadn't seemed to listen to any of his suggestions so far.  


Feeling slightly bitter, Dean muttered, “Doesn’t seem that way to me.”  


When Cas didn't answer, Dean kept speaking, voicing out his frustrations with his situation, “You refuse to let me go when I ask, and yet somehow I'm supposed to think that I'm _not_ being held here as a prisoner? Which one is it? Cause it sure as hell can't be both.”  


This time, Castiel answered, “As we said earlier, in Jess' cabin: if you attempt to leave the campsite now, the other Ravagers will…”  


“They’ll torture me or whatever,” Dean interrupted with a dismissive wave of his hand, knowing full well that the _“whatever”_ he was referring to was the act of sadism that had been explained to him before. Not wanting to linger on that thought, he found it was better just to generalize the word and try to think about something else.  


Castiel narrowed his eyes at Dean's, clearly upset by his interruption, but Dean pressed on anyway, ignoring that little voice in his head that was warning him that maybe he should take a moment to cool down.  


“Yeah. You said," Dean said flatly, his voice raising as it got louder the longer he talked, "But honestly? At this point, I don’t see how me ending up with them is any different than staying here with you! What’s to say that your methods of torture ain’t gonna be any worse than what they would do?”  


Castiel stood up from the bed, folding his arms over his chest as he scoffed at Dean's accusations, “Don’t be so stupid. I'm not the enemy here...”  


“Really?” Dean shouted, jumping up from his place in the arm chair so he would be at eye level with Castiel's stormy eyes, "You expect me to fucking believe that you're _not_ the enemy?"  


That voice in the back of his head was shouting back at him to stop and to think about what he was going to say before he blurted it out. It tried to reason, begged Dean to listen, but it was as if something had snapped.  


He was scared. Fucking terrified, actually. He'd been taken from the place where he lived, torn away from the only family he had, just to be brought to a place with dozens of people that were considered as monsters by the large majority of people. It didn't matter how nice Castiel or Jess or even Benny had seemed. His mind was blurring and his mouth was moving almost as if he had no choice but to let it all out. 

He continued shouting at the other man, “Stop fucking stringing me along and just make your damn decision on what torture you’re going to inflict on me and get it over with already. Or, better yet, do us both a favor and just kill me. Then you won't even have to bother figuring out what you want done.”  


The logical side of Dean's mind was freaking out. Why was he asking for death? He didn't want to die. He wanted to see Sam again, to find his freedom.  


But that other side of him, the side that control his fight or flight reflexes hated not knowing what his fate was going to be. He just wanted it to be over. If they were going to torture him, then he would prefer them to go ahead and start now, versus waiting for another week. If they were going to kill him, he just wanted it to be quick.  


Castiel stared at him bemused, “Why are you so insistent I’m going to torture or kill you?”  


“Because you’re a Ravager,” Dean spat out disgusted, remembering every awful story he'd ever heard and pulling it in to fuel his emotions further, “You’re murderous, vile creatures bent on destruction and feed off the happiness of others. _Of course_ you’re going to torture and kill me. That’s what you _do_!”  


“And what gave you that impression?” Castiel asked defensively, looking as though he were thinking back to the past couple of days, trying to find an exact point that had led Dean to this conclusion.  


Dean thought back as well, his mind stuttering as it remembered that Castiel and his team had truly done nothing to bring about this impression. The worst thing they had done was kidnap him and take him back to their compound, however even this Dean felt was excusable, as the alternative would have been Adam being captured and possibly killed as well. He had no reason to believe that Castiel hadn't been genuine when he apologized for taking him in an effort to save the other "hidden kids" back in the Main Town.  


Angry that he couldn't think of a valid, legitimate reason, he shouted out the first thing that came to his mind, “I’ve been told the stories."  


Castiel rolled his eyes in response, turning his body away so his back was facing Dean.  


Enraged at the dismissal, despite knowing that what he was about to do was one of the worst ideas he had ever had, he continued pressing, "I know you’re manipulative. Hell, you’re probably a sadist, like your buddy Alistair, as well."  


Chills ran down Dean's spine when he realized that Cas' entire body had tensed up. Satisfied that he had his attention, Dean continued talking, desperately wanting Castiel to feel as much pain as he felt, despite knowing that none of what he was about to say was true, "Isn't that what Jess said? That you like it rough? Is that what you’re waiting to decide? How exactly you’re going to _rape_ me before sending me off to Alistair to let him finish me off?”  


Castiel turned on his heels, his eyes narrowed and darker than anything Dean had ever seen before.  


Dean had a brief moment of _oh shit_ , realizing that he had just taken it too far, where he regretted even opening his big fat mouth mouth in the first place, when Castiel took long strides across the room, stopping when he was nearly chest-to-chest with Dean.  


The man grabbed Dean’s shoulder, pushing him back into the wall a full foot behind him, hard enough that his shoulder blade would probably be bruised. Castiel leaned over him and growled, “I am _nothing_ like that. Don’t presume you know me based off of some stories that you’ve heard, child.”  


Dean stared into Castiel’s rage-filled blue eyes, trying to breath in deeply to regain some resemblance of control as he felt the short, quick puffs of Castiel’s breath against his cheek. His heightened awareness made it painfully obvious at just how close Castiel was standing next to him. He could feel every single point of contact, every single place their bodies touched. He felt a pool of heat rise in his stomach, eager for more touch.  


_Shit._ Now was _so_ not the time for his teenage hormones to be acting up. No matter how fucking sexy it would be if the Ravager took control and kissed Dean passionately, running his thick, strong hands all over his leaner frame.  


Castiel pushed himself off of Dean abruptly, causing Dean to flush as he realized just how far his thoughts had gone. He really needed to stop being attracted to the man he was purposefully antagonizing.  


Not being privy to Dean's thoughts, Castiel continued, “If you would prefer to leave this campsite and get captured by Alistair, then by all means! You’re welcome to go. If, by some freak chance, Alistair doesn't find you and you actually make it out of the compound, I can assure you that you won’t get far before you die: either from starvation, dehydration, or Croats."  


Dean's heart dropped, knowing Castiel was absolutely right. How could he be so stupid? This is what the other man had been trying to explain to him all along. And, honestly, deep down, Dean had already known that this. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that the moment he was out of Castiel's care, he was royally screwed.  


He hated feeling as though he were indebted to anyone. Perhaps this was why he wanted to push Castiel over the edge.  


Unfortunately for Dean, it had appeared to work a little too well, when Castiel finished with, "Frankly, I don’t give a fuck what you choose to do. If you're looking to die, then that's fine by me. But don't try and drag me, or any of my gang, down with you.”  


Castiel stormed out of the room, slamming the front door closed behind him with a loud _BANG_.  


Dean stared at the closed door, still feeling the vibrations from the slam pulsing through his body. He felt nauseous as the silence took over, making him feel more alone and uncomfortable than he had since the moment Castiel had found him.  


He yelled into the empty space, pulling his arm back and lurching it forward to punch the closest wall beside him. He immediately winced at the pain, as he hugged his throbbing hand close to his chest, immediately regretting his decision to lash out.  


Much like all the other decisions he had made that day.  


He pouted at the realization that he kinda sucked, and sunk back down into the plush arm chair he'd been sitting in before his and Castiel's argument. Now what was he supposed to do?  


There was one thing he was certain of, and that was that Castiel always seemed to surprise him with every conversation they had. He was obviously not nearly as heartless as Dean had made him out to be, despite his final parting words. He thought back to Castiel's words, telling him not to believe in everything he'd been told in the stories. He wasn't stupid, he knew that all stories were based on some shred of truth. But which parts were the truth and which were the lies?  


Castiel had sounded almost hurt when Dean accused him of being a monster. He'd immediately asked what he'd done to deserve that title, having no clue what he could have done in such a short amount of time to incite such hatred from Dean.He knew that nothing he was about to say was true, and yet, Dean still had blurted out the prejudices that had been instilled in him from when he was a child.  


Up to this point, Castiel had done nothing like what he pictured a Ravager would do. He hadn’t tied him up or tried to pull his skin off using a knife. He hadn't even tried to take advantage of him sexually. He had simply brought him back to his cabin, and, for the most part, had even kept a reasonable distance.  


Shivers ran down Dean's spine when he thought back to Castiel's body pressed up close against his. Was that why he was so willing to trust Castiel? Because he was sexually attracted to him?  


It only took a minute before Dean decided that that wasn't the reason, at least not the main one. There was just something about the blue-eyed man that drew him in. That made him inherently want to trust him, to let him take care of him. Perhaps it was because he was a strong, attractive male, but Dean suspected it had more to do with the fact that he seemed to sincere when he spoke of protecting Dean. He had already done it numerous time in the short span of time Dean had been there.  


He had defended him against Meg, and then Alistair, and had even stood up against Jess when she asked him why he had brought him their camp grounds despite her direct orders not to. Since he hadn't done anything to hurt him yet, he felt like he could reasonably assume that he probably wasn't going to. But if Castiel wasn’t keeping him here to be tortured, then why was he still there?  


When he was a kid, Mother DeAnna and Miss Julie would tell a story every Sunday night. While sometimes the stories were about happy days, the majority of the stories were of the Ravagers. The two older women would paint a picture of the vicious monsters, putting out a warning to the children never to stray too far from the compound or they would be taken, tortured, and eventually killed. Miss Julie's stories were so graphic, that several of the kids would leave the story time hour with snot rolling down their face and tears streaming down their cheeks. Eventually, Mother DeAnna had to put a stop to the stories, realizing that none of the kids were sleeping that well out of dear of being taken from their beds.  


Dean himself had never really put too much stock in these stories, until now. But why? Why was he suddenly so eager to believe they were all true? Most of the Ravagers he had met, like Castiel, Benny, Dorothy, or even Jess, had done anything remotely similar to the monsters in the stories he'd been told.  


Was he being deceived by these Ravagers? Were they actually much worse than they appeared? Or was he letting his judgment be clouded by the opinions of two lonely old women who were currently hundreds of miles away?  


He thought back to Castiel’s parting words once again, claiming he was nothing like the stories Dean had heard and that he wasn’t anything like Alistair or the other Ravagers. Dean wasn’t stupid. He knew Castiel was telling the truth. He could see it, feel it even, when he and Castiel were in the same room.  


Dean prided himself on being able to trust his gut. His self-conscious usually knew what was best for him. In the span of his life, it had yet to let him down. And there was no doubt in his mind what his gut was telling him to do.  


He needed to trust Castiel. Trust that the Ravager would help him.  


Which was fucking terrifying.  


He knew absolutely nothing about this man! What was it about him that made Dean want to trust him so easily? The only person he had ever truly trusted was his little brother Sam. Even his dad, who he remembered very little of as it was so long ago that they traveled with him, couldn't be trusted to return to his kids safely.  


But Castiel? Dean couldn’t deny that when he stood next to the older man, he felt a sense of comfort, a feeling of security that he’d never known or felt before. Even sitting here, alone in this cabin in the middle of a compound full of Ravagers, he felt safe. He even felt . . . free.  


He groaned, running his fingers through his hair and pulling at the edges; what was he going to do? Castiel had told him he could leave. He could walk out of the front door right now and leave this all behind.  


Although he was tempted to do so, he knew without a doubt that leaving would be just another stupid decision in the long line of dumb things he was already doing. He had no desire to be captured by the demon Alistair, just to learn more intimately what sadism truly entailed.  


Out of every Ravager Dean had met so far, Alistair seemed to be the only one who lived up to the reputation of being a true monster.  


The rest of them? Castiel, Jess, and Benny? They were different. They weren’t monstrous, at least not as far as Dean could see.  


Besides, even if he was able to somehow sneak out of the compound without being caught, what then? Say he were to head back to the Orphanage, which he had no desire to do, it had to be a several days walk to reach there. And without food and water, he’d never survive, not to mention that the desert was bound to be crawling with Croats.  


Dean shuddered; Croats were the real monsters. They were creatures that appeared to be human with rotting flesh and no concept of humanity. He’d be killed instantly, or worse, turned into one of them.  


He’d have to find civilization nearby the compound to stock up on supplies and weapons. But, was there anything around? He couldn’t ask a Ravager for directions and he certainly wasn’t going to trust that he would stumble onto a town wandering aimlessly in the desert on his own.  


No, his best chance of survival was staying there in the cabin and waiting for Castiel to return.  


His stomach churned as he remembered the words he’d spat out earlier. What had possessed him to say those things? What would he do when he came back and found Dean still here? Would he kick him out? Give him away? He swallowed nervously, wringing his hands together as he thought out a plan. He would just have to convince him to let him stay.  


His mind wandered, wondering once again what would be done with him; but shook his head, trying not to worry about it: one problem at a time.  


He would have to start with an apology, something he hated doing. He wondered if he should grovel or beg, but shook his head, his nose scrunched up in distaste. He wasn’t that desperate…not yet, anyway.  


He sat in the quiet for another hour, trying to think of the exact words he was going to say when Castiel came back. As he formulated an argument in his mind, satisfied with some of the points he was coming up with, the door quietly opened. Dean froze, watching as Castiel walked in silently.  


If the Ravager was surprised that Dean was there, he didn’t make any mention of it. He barely glanced in Dean’s direction before walking over to his bed, bending down and grabbing several blankets from some drawers beneath. He turned, throwing the blankets at Dean, who caught them easily despite being surprised.  


“Get some rest; I’ll deal with you in the morning.”  


Every argument that had formed in Dean’s mind within the past hour vanished. He opened his mouth, but found that the words wouldn’t form. He watched Castiel, his mouth and mind speechless, as the other man turned away from Dean, pulling off his shirt in one swift motion.  


Dean’s mouth went dry as he stared at his back, dumbly. He was mesmerized by a tattoo the other man had of two large black wings sprouting from the middle of his back and spreading down his sides, shoulders, and onto his arms. Dean was mesmerized by the movement of Castiel’s shoulders as he stretched, watching the wings move as though they were real and not merely inked onto his skin. It dawned on Dean that the tattoo must be where Castiel received his nickname, Wings, from.  


Castiel hopped into bed, leaving his pants on much to Dean’s embarrassment and disappointment, facing towards the wall away from Dean.  


Dean stared at Castiel’s naked torso, wishing he could reach out and trace the black feathers, knowing he couldn’t without overstepping his boundaries. He bit the inside of his cheek, forcing himself to not ask Castiel about the tattoo. He wasn’t sure what the correct protocol was when trying to convince a Ravager not to throw you out, but he guessed that caressing his naked back would probably not be the way to go about doing it.  


He stared down at the blankets that had been thrown at him. He felt like this was a good sign. Castiel could have just left Dean alone or ignored him completely, but instead offered him his extra blankets, something that could be considered a comfort. His stomach dropped again at this realization. Just another way that this man proved that he wasn’t the horror that Dean accused him of being.  


He looked up at Castiel again, sinking into the comforts of the armchair, wrapping the blankets around him until his entire body was cocooned, and took a deep breath. Guilt weighed in the center of his chest and he knew that he wouldn’t be able to get to sleep that night unless he confronted this issue head on.  


He had to say something. And he had to do it now.  


He closed his eyes, trying to recall the speech he had prepared earlier in the evening before Castiel had come back to the cabin. He could do this. He would do this. It was going to be okay.  


Summoning all of the courage he had, he whispered, “I’m sorry.”  


Castiel stayed motionless, and Dean wondered if he even heard the apology. He took another deep breath and closed his eyes.  


He could do this. He _would_ do this.  


He opened his mouth again, speaking a little louder than he had before, wanting to make sure that Castiel could hear him this time, “I shouldn’t have accused you of being . . . a monster. You’ve done nothing to cause me to believe that. I just . . .”  


He sighed, not really sure where he wanted to go with that and tried starting over. He didn’t need to justify or defend himself.  


“I’m sorry I said those things. You’re right, I don’t know you. But what I do know is that you’re nothing like what I originally perceived a Ravager to be. And I’m sorry I suggested otherwise.”  


The room was silent, and Castiel hadn’t moved at all through Dean’s speech.  


Doubts filled his mind. Was he still speaking too quietly? Had the other man even heard what he'd said? Or was he simply ignoring him? Should he try again? Leave it be?  


Dean sighed, deciding that he’d done what he told himself to do, and for now, that's all he could do. Feeling slightly better at having gotten that off his chest, he shifted in the armchair, trying to find a comfortable position, so he could go to sleep.  


He closed his eyes, trying to convince his mind to stop racing and his body to fall asleep. It didn't do him any good to dwell on what was going to happen the next day. At this point, it was out of his hands. He could try to apologize again tomorrow, when the sun was up.  


He sighed in his seat, feeling his beating heart finally start to calm when Castiel spoke up from his place across the room, causing Dean to jump, his heart immediately picking up the pace again.  


“You were right in assuming those things about most Ravagers,” Castiel said. His voice sounded strained, as though he were speaking things he didn’t really want to admit, but felt that he had to.  


Dean stayed as still as he could, eagerly listening to everything that came out the man’s mouth, not wanting to make any sudden movements that would stop him from talking.  


“The others gangs . . . they’re like Alistair. They are the cause of the stories. The nightmares. But Jess and our group and . . .” Castiel took a deep breath before continuing, “and me . . . we’re not like that. Not really. I mean, we’re messed up in our own way, but we wouldn’t . . .”  


He hesitated, trying to gather his thoughts. Dean waited patiently, glad that the man was taking the time to respond to him. It made him feel better, knowing that Castiel had heard his apology and was acknowledging it. He wasn't quite sure if he was forgiven yet (or if he would ever be forgiven for his hateful words), but at least this was a start.  


He continued, “We’re Ravagers, yes, but we don’t murder unnecessarily. We only care about survival and we watch out for each other. We’re not perfect, and perhaps we are monsters in some ways . . .”  


“You’re not,” Dean spoke causing Castiel to flinch, as though he had forgotten he was speaking to an audience. Dean hated to interrupt, but he felt it was important to assure this man, “I was wrong.”  


Castiel was silent, and Dean sensed he was done talking. He sat up in the armchair once again, pulling his knees into his chest and hugging them close to his body. Deciding to push his luck further, he asked, “What’s going to happen to me?”  


It was the first time that he asked what was going to happen instead of what they were going to do to him. He didn’t realize how different the implications of the wording were until he spoke. He had stopped thinking of Castiel as the enemy and, although he couldn’t consider him to be a friend, he had to trust that after this long; he wasn’t going to kill him.  


Dean wasn’t sure if Castiel caught the implications of his words, but he turned around, facing Dean instead of the wall and answered his question, “You have three options. Since you are here, I am assuming you’ve come to realize that you won’t survive on your own and you have decided to try your luck here instead of running off to be captured by one of the other groups or die at the hands of the Croats, so you can rule the first option out.”  


Dean nodded, already having come to that conclusion. He was a little surprised that he was being given options in the first place, but kept his mouth shut, not wanting to question it and have his options taken away from him.  


Castiel continued, “The next option is that we can take you to the Road House. It’s a bar in a town not too far from here. Ellen, the owner of the bar, can put you up for a few days, just until you decide what to do. From that point you would be completely on your own.”  


Dean stared at Castiel in surprise. It was a better option that he had imagined. He still had no clue what he would do on his own, but he’d never imagined a possibility where he wasn’t imprisoned in the compound in some way or another. He could figure out a way to make some money and plan out a way to go back for Sammy.  


Although, Sam wouldn’t want to leave the orphanage. He liked it there, and Dean would hate to take him away from something that he actually enjoyed. So, what would he do then? He wasn’t returning to the orphanage. Perhaps he could stay in this town, build a life for himself.  
It wasn’t a bad thought, and much better than getting killed or kept as a prisoner.  


“What’s the last option?” Dean asked, remembering Castiel had mentioned three. He wanted to have all the cards laid out on the table before he made any decisions.  


Castiel hesitated, shifting on his bed where he was laying, before speaking, “You stay here and become a Ravager, like us.”  


Dean stared blankly at Castiel, as the words sunk into his mind.  


“What?” Dean asked in surprise, sitting up further.  


Castiel spoke quickly, looking down at the floor, careful not to catch Dean’s eye, “I mean, we wouldn’t declare you one of us right away. You’d have to pass through some tests first. But after that, if you were interested, you’d become a part of the gang. You’d have our protection, so Alistair and the others wouldn’t be able to touch you without breaking the treaty, and of course we would teach you to fight…”  


Castiel huffed out a humorless laugh, changing his position so he was lying on his back, staring at the ceiling, “But of course you wouldn’t actually want to become a Ravager, with them being monsters and all…”  


Dean listened in disbelief, weighing his options quickly in his mind. He had never considered becoming a Ravager. Why would he? He had been taught to be repulsed by them. Even before he went to the Orphanage, his dad would casually mention how Ravagers were the lowest of scum and couldn’t be trusted.  


He could always try to survive on his own. This nearby town sounded nice and it really was the best possible scenario he could have ever imagined. He didn’t know what he would do once he was there, but he was sure he could figure it out along the way. Yes, that had to be the option for him. It was the safest and the one that made the most sense.  


He looked up at Castiel, ready to tell him he wanted to try out his luck at the Road House, catching his blue eyes into his own and froze. He thought back to how it felt when his body was pressed against him and how strong and protected he felt when he brushed his wrist when they were facing Alistair. If he left, would he ever see Castiel again?  


“I want to become a Ravager,” he blurted out.  


Wait.  


. . .  


What?  


Castiel sat up quickly, disbelief covering his face. He replied skeptically, “I’m not trying to force you to stay. You’re free to do whatever you want to. This isn't a trick. You don't have to stay here. You won't be punished for choosing one of the other options.”  


“No, I know,” Dean interjected frustrated, shaking his head.  


Seriously, what the hell was that? Why did he say he wanted to be a Ravager?  


His gaze landed on Castiel’s torso, catching a full glimpse of his chest. His mouth dropped slightly as he examined the muscles running down, glancing at the scars that covered his tan body. He had a tattoo on his hip in the shape of star that seemed to be surrounded by fire. His body was mesmerizing and Dean wanted to discover for himself what this man’s skin felt like beneath his fingertips.  


“I want to stay. Here,” Dean blurted again, adding quickly, “and become a Ravager.”  


He was completely out of his mind. That had to be it. There no other explanation for why these words were coming out of his mouth.  


Castiel seemed to be thinking the same thing, because he raised one of his eyebrows and asked, “Why?”  


Dean froze, trying to hurry and think of an answer.  


Why _did_ he want to become a Ravager? Was it because of Castiel's body? Was it simply because he desired to be with the older man? Because he longed to feel those fingers run down his chest and yearned to press his lips against Castiel's tattoos?  


Dean opened his mouth, trying to shake images of the two men grinding against each other in the sheets that were overwhelming his mind, stammering out, “I . . . uh . . . ”  


Castiel watched him, completely bewildered, waiting patiently while Dean gathered his thoughts.  


If that was his only reason for staying, he had to get out now. He'd go to the Road House and then . . .  


And then do, what?  


“I can’t go back to the Orphanage,” Dean blurted finally. It was true, he'd already decided that he couldn't, he wouldn't return to the Orphanage to stay. Now that he was out, he wouldn't condemn himself to that life again.  


“I hate it there,” He admitted, “I was never happy and I can’t go back.”  


“Okay,” Castiel spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully before he answered him, “You don’t have to go back. You can go to the Road House.”  


"And then what?" Dean asked, repeating the question that had been repeatedly running through his mind, “What would I do once I got there?”  


Castiel shrugged, “You could talk to Ellen. I’m sure she could set you up, find you something to do.”  


Dean hesitated. It sounded so simple, when Cas said it like that. So why didn't the idea sound appealing to him?  


A niggling thought in the back of his head poked and prodded at him, until he took the moment to pause and listen.  


_You don't want to be alone._  


It was true, he really didn't. He had no desire to go out and try and figure out how to survive in a desolate world by himself. He needed people.  


And sure, the fact that Castiel was hot certainly helped make his decision to stay a little easier, but he was relieved to feel that there was so much more to it than that.  


He was strong and smart and kind. Heck, he was even taking the time to question Dean's decision to make sure he wasn't doing it for the wrong reasons!  


Castiel was also stubborn and could be a bit of an asshole at times, but that was okay. Dean figured that sometimes he acted like a little shit too, so it evened out in the end. Besides, Castiel was genuine, and in a world like the one they were living in, that was refreshing.  


Dean bit his lip, trying to figure out how he was going to explain this all to the other man and started, “At the Road House, I would be on my own…”  


Castiel squinted, speaking cautiously, “Technically, yes.”  


“I don’t want to do that,” Dean said quickly, shaking his head definitely, “I’ll never survive on my own. I don't have the training or the supplies. I need -," he paused, not wanting to admit that he needed people, and instead finished with, "I’d prefer to stay here.”  


_With you_ , Dean’s mind added unhelpfully.  


Castiel cocked his head to the side; his eyes still squinted as he gazed at Dean seriously. He felt awkward just sitting there, but didn’t dare look away, as though this were the first test he had to pass in order to stay in this man’s gang.  


Finally, Castiel sighed, and spoke softly, “We’ll continue this discussion in the morning. You should try and get some sleep.”  


He turned back around, leaving Dean to close his eyes and think about their conversation.  


Was he making the right decision?  


He shifted back down in the armchair, attempting to get comfortable again, trying to calm his racing mind.  


He didn’t have to make a decision now. He would sleep on it and come to a conclusion in the morning. There were still a lot of things to be considered before deciding.  


Sure, he wouldn't be alone, but what would he do if he stayed? Would Castiel even want him to stay here? And what were these _tests_ that he'd mentioned before?  


Not only that, but what about Sammy? If he stayed here, would he ever be able to see him again? If he left, would he survive long enough to be able to be reunited?  


Dean sighed, finally allowing his body to relax. He had options now. His life wasn't completely hopeless. He would go to sleep now, and when he woke feeling refreshed, he would get more information about the two choices and come to a final conclusion.  


There were too many questions, and not nearly enough answers for him to make a decision.  


And yet, as he sunk into the chair, catching a glimpse of Castiel lying on his bed, breathing deeply as he slept soundly, he couldn’t help but get the sinking feeling that no matter what he learned tomorrow morning, his decision was already made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for your comments! They brighten my day and are extremely appreciated! You are all beautiful and lovely. :)


	4. Chapter 4

Dean’s eyes fluttered open, as he shifted in the armchair, forcing himself to wake up. His sleepy gaze glanced over at Castiel's bed, and he frowned when he realized it was empty. Feeling slightly more awake, his shifted in his seat, wanting to take a look around again, when he heard some staggered breathing. He glanced down towards the floor where the breaths seemed to be coming from and froze.  


His eyes quickly widened as his suddenly no longer tired eyes latched onto the image in front of him. Castiel was on the floor in between his bed and the armchair Dean was sitting in, doing push-ups without a shirt. He was mesmerized at the sight before him, eagerly taking in every minuscule detail as Castiel’s body rose up and down, clenching his fist in a tight ball in an effort to try and suppress his desire to reach out and trace the wings covering the man's shoulder blades.  


He shifted until he was sitting all the way up, unable to take his eyes off the sight of the rippling moving muscles, despite the fact that he knew he was being creepy. Figuring he should at least alert Castiel of his presence, he cleared his throat and spoke in his deep, hardly used voice, “Good morning.”  


Castiel ignored him.  


Dean stayed in his seat, feeling awkward and slightly aroused as he watched the older man finish out the rest of his work out routine before lifting himself off the floor, stretching his arms above his head.  


Dean was captivated at the motion, gawking at Castiel’s tan toned chest. He watched as a bead of sweat ran down his torso, licking his lips as he imagined what it would taste like if he ran his tongue from the freckle next to the man’s nipple all the way up to his collar bone.  


Castiel coughed, bringing him out of his trance. Dean could feel his face flush bright red, mortified at having been caught so blatantly staring. Fortunately, Castiel was kind enough to ignore his blush and instead reached over to his nightstand, pulling out a shirt and lifting it over his head.  


"So," Castiel started awkwardly, turning back to Dean, as though he were unsure where to go from here, "You think you want to become a Ravager?"  


Dean hesitated, “Yes?”  


Castiel raised an eyebrow, “Are you asking me or telling me?”  


Dean looked at the ground sheepishly. He hated that he felt so small and timid, but he couldn't help it around this intimidating man.  


“I guess," Dean started, hesitating as he lifted up his knees, holding them close to his chest while he tried to find the right words, "I don’t really know what Ravagers do. I always thought that Ravagers were...”  


“Monsters,” Castiel answered flatly, his face devoid of any emotion.  


Dean flinched, “Uh, yeah, that. But, then I met you, and it's the complete opposite. I’d like to stay here, at least I think I do, but -”  


“But?,” Castiel prompted.  


"I guess I just don't know what I'd be doing here if I stayed," Dean answered, daring a look at Castiel to see his reaction.  


Dean sighed in relief when Cas nodded in agreement. He was glad that Cas seemed to understand his reservations. It made this a lot easier.  


Castiel sat down on his bed as he clasped his fingers together and placed them against his lips. He hunched over, taking a moment to think before he answered back, “We keep it pretty simple. We’ll send out members of our group to go on hunts, to find some more supplies for us, while the rest stays here to hold down the fort. We each take turns for who does what. Our goal is to survive, so we try to avoid running into the Croats at all costs.”  


“Where do you find your hunts?” Dean asked intrigued.  


“We have some sources scattered through-out various towns that will let us know if areas have been abandoned. Once we’ve confirmed that there’s no one there, we go in to search through the leftover supplies, grabbing anything we can salvage,” he paused before he added defensively, “We only scavenge pieces that have been abandoned. It’s not an ‘us versus them’ deal. We don’t want harm to fall upon others because of our actions. We just want to survive.”  


Dean felt a swell in his heart. He really had misjudged them before. What Castiel was explaining sounded perfect. It was everything he was hoping for. He would totally be down with living his life this way.  


“Is that how all Ravagers work then?” he asked curiously. How many lies had the orphanage fed him?  


Castiel shook his head sadly, not bothering to elaborate.  


"So," Dean started, "What exactly would _I_ do?"  


"If you stayed?" Cas asked and Dean nodded to clarify, "Much of the same, I suppose. We would have to train you before you went out on hunts, but we'd find what your strengths were and use those. Garth is good with sewing, Chuck is surprisingly organized when it comes to our supplies, and Benny is a good cook. If you stayed, we'd figure out what you were good at and how you could contribute to the team."  


Dean nodded, thinking it through. He had no clue what he was good at, but he could figure something out.  


“What would I do if I left?” he asked, wanting to compare the two options together. Although he was eager to announce that he would be staying, the rational part of his brain was shouting for all the facts.  


Castiel shrugged, repeating what he’d said the night before, “We’d drop you off at Ellen’s bar and let you go from there. Ellen would probably let you hang out and work for a little bit, just until you could save up some money for supplies and weapons, but after that you’d be on your own.”  


Dean scrunched his nose, “Where would I go?”  


“Wherever you wanted,” he replied unconcerned.  


Dean took a few moments toying with the idea. He’d always dreamed of going to do whatever he wanted. But, now that he had the opportunity placed in front of him, he didn’t want to take it. He couldn’t fight. He had no supplies. There was nowhere he belonged. He had no desire to be completely alone.  


“I don’t want to do that,” Dean said, voicing his thoughts out loud, “If my choices are in between wandering aimlessly on my own or staying here, I’d pick here.”  


Castiel frowned, “It’s not an easy lifestyle. And you have to pass a couple of tests before you can claim yourself as one of us.”  


Dean furrowed his eyebrows, “That's right. You mentioned that last night. What are the tests?”  


“The first is an endurance test,” Cas explained, abandoning his hunched position on the edge of the bed in favor of crawling further towards the back so he could rest his body against the wall, “Do you remember that platform in the middle of the compound?”  


Dean nodded, thinking back to the platform he saw right before they met Alistair.  


“During the endurance test, you’ll be sent out to the Platform. Three people, one member chosen from each gang, will join you and proceed to beat the shit out of you. If you survive three rounds, you’re marked with an ‘R’ indicating you’re a Ravager.”  


Dean stared at him blankly, waiting for him to tell him he was just kidding. When that never came, he blurted out, “Seriously?”  


Castiel shot him a look of annoyance that Dean was questioning him, but he couldn’t help it. What kind of fucked up test was that?  


“So, I’m just supposed to stand there are get wailed on?” Dean asked incredulously.  


Castiel sighed, “Absolutely not. If you merely stand there, you’d never survive.”  


“How am I supposed to fight against three Ravagers and win?” Dean nearly growled, inching up to sit defensively against the edge of his seat, ready to jump up and fight at any moment if need be.  


He knew this whole thing sounded too good to be true.  


Castiel rolled his eyes, “You’re not supposed to win. It’s not designed that way.”  


Dean’s heart dropped, this was sounding more hopeless by the minute.  


“So, what’s the point in sending me out there if there’s no chance I’ll pass?”  


“You can pass,” Castiel corrected him.  


They stared at each other for a moment, before Dean spoke slowly, “But, you just told me that I’d never win…”  


“And you wouldn’t,” he agreed again. Dean sighed in exasperation, confused by their whole ring-a-round conversation.  


Castiel continued in an attempt to clarify, "Winning is not the goal. The goal is for you to survive at the end of the rounds. As Ravagers, our main purpose is to do what it takes to survive. So, we throw you into a seemingly impossible situation and see if you can stand by the end of it. If you can, we know you have what it takes. If you can't...”  


He trailed off, leaving Dean's imagination to fill in the rest. He shuddered at the possibilities as he looked down to survey his body, keeping in mind this new information.  


He wasn’t small and scrawny, in fact compared to those he’d left behind at the orphanage, he was rather well-built. But, at sixteen years old, he was much younger than any Ravager he’d have to face. He had little experience fighting and couldn’t see how he would possibly survive.  


Castiel’s eyes softened as he watched Dean inspect himself. Seeming to know the self-deprecating thoughts running through his mind, he spoke softly, “We don’t throw you into the ring blindly. We’ll take some time to train you and instruct you on how you can survive before you put you in that position.”  


Dean sighed in relief, tension falling out of his shoulders he wasn’t even aware he held. He would get help before going in. He wasn’t going to have to fight anyone off right now. With some time, he could do it.  


“What happens after that?” Dean asked.  


“Once you receive the mark of the Ravager, our team will begin to train you to go out on your first hunt. If you are successful on said hunt, then you would receive the mark of our gang and officially become one of us.”  


He lifted up his shirt briefly, showing the tattoo on his hip that Dean had admired the night before.  


“Okay then,” Dean said softly, his eyes glued to the black ink. That didn’t sound so bad. And it was better than the alternatives of staying alone or going back to the orphanage.  


Castiel let his shirt fall back down, breaking Dean's eye contact, and waited for him to continue, his eyebrow raised, “Okay? Does that mean you still think you want to become a Ravager?”  


Dean hesitated, as he looked down at the blanket still lying over his lap, his fingers pulling on some of the loose threads, “Will you help me? Will you help me pass the tests?”  


He bit his lip nervously as the room was filled with silence.  


“Yes.”  


His head shot up, looking at Castiel who was watching him in return and nodded enthusiastically, “Then yes. I want to become a Ravager.”  


Castiel continued to stare through squinted eyes, as though he was a complex puzzle that needed to be solved for another long minute before he lifted himself off of his bed and extended his hand out for Dean to accept, “If that’s the case, we’ll need to go tell the others.”  


Dean accepted the hand, slightly disappointed when Castiel let go. He followed him out of the cabin down a different path than the one they had used the day before, walking until they reached a large open area with several picnic tables and a large fire pit nestled beneath a ramada. They walked over to a small group of people, all huddled around a table piled with food.  


“Hey! It's Castiel and the kid! Welcome, my amigos,” A tall, lanky man called out to the group, stepping forward and pulling Castiel into a tight hug as soon as he was in range. Castiel stood awkwardly as the man’s arms reached around him, not bothering to return the gesture.  


“Garth,” Castiel spoke in acknowledgment, relief covering his face when Garth smiled and released him, turning to Dean instead.  


“It's so good to finally meet you,” he said excitedly, stepping forward and enveloping Dean into a hug.  


He hesitantly lifted his arms to return the hug, looking over Garth’s shoulders catching Castiel’s gaze, trying to make sense of whether or not this was normal.  


Garth stepped back, keeping his arms firmly on either side of Dean and said, “My name’s Garth!”  


They stared at each other for a moment before Garth prompted, “And you’re name is…”  


“Dean,” he replied automatically, shifting awkwardly as the lanky man threw his arm around his shoulders, pulling him tight against his side.  


“Everyone, this is Dean,” Garth announced to the others at the table who were blatantly ignoring him.  


Dean tried to shift, uncomfortable at the contact, but found he couldn’t get away. For such a small, scrawny man, he was surprisingly strong.  


Dean looked at Castiel and mouthed, _‘What do I do?’_  


Castiel shrugged, glancing at Garth nervously, making it clear he did not want to get involved.  


Dean scowled, _‘Thanks.’_  


Castiel’s lip twitched before he turned away, taking a seat at the table.  


Dean was relieved when Jess finally said, “Garth, let go of Dean so he can grab some food. He’s probably starving.”  


Garth let go reluctantly, sitting down at the table and patting at the spot next to him indicating that’s where he wanted Dean to sit. He accepted the spot, only because Castiel would be sitting directly across from him and Benny would be seated on the other side. Although he didn’t know Benny well, he had a feeling the man wasn’t going to surprise him with a hug anytime soon.  


“Take as much as you want,” Jess assured Dean, pointing to the piles of food in front of him.  


Not wanting to miss out on this chance, Dean nodded and immediately grabbed some bread and meat to toss onto his plate, digging in enthusiastically.  


“Wow, you really were starving,” Benny commented, watching Dean eat with an amused smile.  


“Yeah,” he replied sheepishly, reminding himself to slow down, “I haven’t really eaten since I left the orphanage.”  


There was a small movement of limbs adjusting beneath the table before Castiel shouted, “Fuck!”  


Dean, as well as several other people at the table, looked up at Castiel confused.  


“What the hell?” Castiel asked, glaring at Benny who stared right back, his eyes hardened.  


“You didn’t feed him last night?” Benny asked accusingly.  


Castiel frowned, “That is none of your concern.”  


“Like hell it’s not my concern. We’re not barbarians here! If the kid is hungry, then you better make damn sure he eats!”  


Dean looked in between the two, wondering if he should assure Benny that he was fine last night, and hadn’t actually noticed how hungry he was until he had seen the food that morning.  


Jess rolled her eyes, “Benny, quit nagging Castiel. Dean is under his care, not yours. And Castiel? Quit neglecting the kid.”  


Castiel looked offended, “I’m not neglecting…”  


Benny interjected, “I’m pretty sure when you starve someone in your care; it’s considered neglect.”  


“I believe Jess instructed you to stand down from this argument. If I wish to have your opinion, I will ask you for it, but until then: back off,” Castiel replied coolly.  


Benny growled, “Like hell I’m gonna back off, you crazy ass…”  


“Oh, for goodness sake!” Jess yelled, throwing her hands in the air in defeat, stopping the argument in its tracks. She turned to Dean and asked, “Dean? Do you feel that while under Castiel’s care you have been neglected or mistreated in any way?”  


Dean avoided looking at either Benny or Castiel. The entire table had gone silent, eagerly waiting for his response. He chewed on the piece of bread in his mouth slowly, trying to buy himself some time as he figured out how to word his answer. He wasn’t sure why Castiel and Benny were at such odds against each other; they both seemed like good guys and they were technically on the same team. And although he favored Castiel for obvious reasons, Benny had been nothing but kind to him, and he didn’t want to damage any chance of becoming allies, or even friends.  


Trying to appease both, he answered cautiously, “I don’t feel like I’m being mistreated or neglected. I honestly wasn’t hungry last night. If I was, I would have said something to Castiel.”  


Dean glanced over to Castiel who was watching him closely, a look of guilt haunting his eyes. He probably didn’t believe him, but it was the truth. Dean had been very outspoken the night before. Had he had any appetite at all, he would have mentioned it in his rant.  


He turned to face Benny whose lip was curled, indicating his displeasure and obvious skepticism at his answer, “I appreciate your concern. I do. But, you don’t need to worry about me.”  


Benny snorted, but dropped the subject.  


Dean turned back to Jess hesitantly, hoping he handled the situation correctly, feeling relieved when she nodded in approval. It seemed that she was the only one at the table who actually believed him.  


“So,” she asked, reaching forward to grab a piece of bread for herself, pretending as though the argument had never happened, “I’ve got to head to meet with the other leaders in a few minutes and need to let them know what we’ve decided. I trust Castiel has discussed with you your options?”  


She turned to Castiel, waiting for him to confirm. He nodded once, picking at a small portion of food in front of him, rather than eating, a scowl still present on his face.  


Jess continued, turning back to Dean, smiling brightly, “What’d you decide?”  


Dean hesitated for a moment, catching Castiel’s vivid blue eyes. He watched Dean nervously, as though he weren’t entirely sure what Dean was going to pick, despite the fact that he’d told him he was planning on staying. It dawned on him that Castiel thought he was going to change his mind. That he was going to announce he was leaving.  


Satisfied with his decision, Dean spoke bravely, never looking away from Castiel’s eyes, “I want to become a Ravager.”  


Relief flashed in his eyes for a brief moment before his face dropped back into his usual stoic expression.  


Laughter broke Dean’s thoughts, and he turned to face the source of the sound. Dorothy had her hand out, palm facing up, fingers wiggling in Victor’s direction.  


“Pay up, bitches,” she said.  


Victor grumbled as he threw some money into Dorothy’s palm. Chuck followed after Victor, muttering bitterly to himself.  


“Did-did you take bets on what I’d chose?” Dean asked bewildered.  


“Yup,” Dorothy replied happily, counting the money in her palm.  


He continued to watch for a moment, unsure of how exactly he was supposed to respond, when Jess asked, “Castiel told you about the process to becoming a Ravager?”  


Dean nodded, shifting his focus off of Dorothy and her bundle of coins.  


“Okay,” she replied simply as she stood up to go, “We might as well start your training today. No offense kid, but you don’t look like you’d last very long on the stage…”  


Dean frowned; feeling slightly offended even though he knew it was true.  


“Is anyone interested in training – ”  


“I will,” Castiel interrupted.  


She looked back surprised, “Oh, well okay then. Go ahead and start training solo today. I’ll let you know when the date of the endurance round is when I get back.”  


Castiel nodded, his face determined.  


Jess looked in between Castiel and Dean suspiciously, before smiling brightly and winked, “Have fun today.”  


Dean blushed slightly, watching as she walked away for a moment before turning back to Castiel who spoke as soon as he had his attention, “When you’re finished eating, we’ll head back to my cabin to grab some things before we get started.”  


Dean nodded, turning back to his food, reminding himself not to rush.  


“I wasn’t expecting you to stay, brother,” Benny spoke quietly as the table went back to their conversations, “What convinced you?”  


Dean chewed his food slowly, his eyes shifting up to watch Castiel who was deep in a conversation with a man in ripped jeans and a mullet, sitting next to him.  


“The people here are unlike any other Ravagers I’ve ever heard about before,” Dean said, “I’ll never survive on my own and I won’t go back to the orphanage. Staying here is the best chance I got.”  


He looked at Benny who stared back disbelievingly, “So, it had nothing to do with the blue eyed angel sitting directly across from you?”  


Dean felt his face flush red as his eyes unwillingly shot to look at Castiel, “Wh-what? No. W-why would you think that?”  


Benny frowned looking in between the two confused.  


It dawned on him that he was being asked if he was being forced into this, and answered quickly, “I made this decision on my own. No one else made it for me.”  


Benny stayed silent, his eyes still shifting in between the two men. Dean cursed at his traitorous cheeks which were still flushed from before.  


“Well,” he finally said, “A bit of advice for you: figure out what keeps you going in life and hold onto it. You’ll never survive without something there to keep you going.”  


His eyes darted in between the two one last time before standing up and calling out to the man across the table, “Strange to me that you’re willing to spend your time training the kid. You didn’t seem to want anything to do with him yesterday.”  


Castiel looked up from his conversation, his eyes narrowing in response, “Is there a point to this?”  


Benny shrugged, “Just an observation.”  


He paused before adding, “If you need any help with training, Wings, I’m more than happy to step in.”  


Castiel replied coldly, “I’m more than capable of handling this on my own.”  


Benny held his hands up in mock defense, turning to look down at Dean and winked, “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”  


Dean looked back surprised, “Uh, yeah. I will. Thanks.”  


He smirked at Castiel who was watching the two, before sauntering off.  


“So!” Garth called out, trying to break up the awkward tension that was filling the silence in lieu of Benny’s departure, “You start training today! Are you excited?”  


Dean shrugged, not really sure how he was supposed to answer that.  


Fortunately, Castiel cut it, “Are you ready to begin?”  


He nodded, jumping up from his seat, “Yes.”  


“Good luck on your training!” Garth called after them and Dean followed Castiel back to his cabin in silence.  


When they entered the room, Dean felt his mouth go dry as he watched Castiel pull off his shirt and reach beneath his bed, grabbing a duffle bag, holding it up for Dean to see.  


“Shall we begin?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops. I got this out a couple days later than I wanted to! My bad!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it!! Dean is officially on his way to becoming a Ravager. I know it might seem weird that he wants to be one, seeing as he grew up thinking they were monsters, but I want to impress that he's a teenage boy with no where to go and a crush on the guy helping him.
> 
> Let me know what you think! You're comments and kudos brighten my whole day!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note, this chapter has a brief encounter of non-consensual touching.

"Again!"  


Dean counted beneath his breath, trying to remember what Castiel had instructed him earlier that morning.  


_One_ : keep your legs open, knees slightly bent, and feet secure for a strong stance. This ensures that if someone tries to hit you, you won’t just fall right over.  


_Two_ : move your arms up to defend your face. Most people will go straight for the face, which has a lot of the weakest points. To prevent a serious head injury, keep your arms up at all times.  


_Three_ : always be on the look-out for movement. Don’t let your opponents catch you off guard. Be sure to keep your opponent in your line of sight at all times.  


_Four_ : no distractions. Keep your entire focus on what you’re doing. The moment your mind wanders to things like how impressive the other fighter is, or how his muscles are really accentuated through his tight pants, or how his eyes seem to capture your own, holding you in a sea of blue that seems to go on forever…  


"Ow," Dean shouted, rubbing his arm where Castiel had punched him.  


“Don’t lose focus,” he scolded him, bringing his arms up to launch another shot.  


Dean grumbled, a slight blush rising up the back of his neck as he lifted his arms back up, ready to start over.  


They had been at this for several hours and he was tired and sore. Castiel was ruthless in his attacks, never punching hard enough for any lasting damage, but he was quick and near impossible to keep up with.  


When they had arrived back at the cabin earlier that morning, they had started their routine with a few “simple” warm-up exercises. Castiel informed Dean that he was to start everyday by going through this warm-up, to help build his stamina. He had forced Dean to do 20 push-ups (which he was ashamed to admit he barely completed), 50 sit-ups (which Castiel assured him was significantly lower than what he should be doing, much to his horror), and 100 jumping jacks (he took several minutes to recover from that one).  


Afterwards, Castiel pulled some clothes from the duffle bag, telling him to change into the comfortable material. Dean sputtered nervously when he realized he was supposed to change out there in the open, and tried to ignore Castiel’s careful gaze as he quickly pulled off his shirt, replacing it with one of Castiel’s own.  


The material on the shirt was thin and flexible, and Dean was pleased to discover that his movements were less constricted. He followed Castiel out of his room to another cabin, close to the Ramada where they had eaten breakfast. Inside the cabin, the floor was completely covered in thick mats.  


Castiel hadn’t wasted any time before launching into an attack, shouting out commands and advice to Dean anytime he failed to successfully block. He informed him their focus would be defense.  


Pulling himself back to the present, Dean ducked as he watched Castiel lean forward, aiming a punch, rolling off to the side. He smiled widely, feeling elated at his success; which, naturally, left him open for the other man’s next attempts.  


“Oomph,” Dean gasped, as his arms failed to stop Castiel’s jabs to his chest.  


“Don’t get cocky,” Castiel growled in Dean’s ear.  


Dean felt a shiver run down his body, starting from the point where he felt Castiel’s breath against his ear. He felt his breath shorten, realizing how closely Castiel stood next to him.  


Castiel stepped back, his eyes taking in Dean’s appearance, “Are you okay? You seem to be having trouble breathing...”  


Dean cursed himself mentally, and nodded shakily, “I’m fine.”  


Castiel frowned, “Are you sure? If you need a break, you need to let me know.”  


Dean lifted his arms, ready for another round, “The other Ravagers won’t be so kind when I’m thrown onto the platform for the first test.”  


Castiel paused for a moment longer before giving in, “No, they won’t. However, these sessions will be ineffective if you pass out the first day of sparring.”  


Dean scoffed, barely jumping back to avoid Castiel’s swing just in time. He reminded himself to wait to celebrate until after they were done and immediately squatted, missing Castiel’s shot to his head. He lifted his hands, catching one of Castiel’s fists, stopping it in its tracks, but realized too late the he’d left his side open and vulnerable to his other fist.  


Dean whimpered as Castiel shoved into his exposed side.  


Castiel sighed, “Do you know what you did wrong?”  


He nodded, rubbing his side absentmindedly, “I used two hands to stop your attack, leaving myself open for your counter.”  
Castiel nodded, seeming pleased that at least he was able to figure out his mistakes on his own, even if he couldn’t stop himself from making them. He walked behind Dean, grabbing his arms, and stepping forward until his body was flush against his back, causing Dean’s breath to catch.  


“Instead of grabbing my fist to stop the attack, use your arm to deflect and reroute the attack off to the side.”  


Castiel grabbed Dean’s arms, moving them in the motion he explained. He tried to focus on the movements his arms were making versus paying attention to the other man whose body was tight against his. He closed his eyes, momentarily taking a deep breath, trying to will himself not to get a boner.  


He felt the other man’s breath against his neck before he asked, “Do you think you understand the motion?”  


Dean gulped, barely suppressing a whimper. He nodded in response, not trusting his voice to not give away the state of his traitorous body.  


Castiel stepped back, dropping Dean’s arms and said, “Let’s try that again, a little slower this time so you can practice the motion. Once I think you’ve got it, we’ll take a quick break.”  


He didn’t allow Dean anytime to respond before stepping forward and simulating a punch with exaggerated slowness for Dean to block. Dean lifted his arms, and tried to copy the exact motions he’d been shown a moment before.  


“Again,” Castiel said.  


They continued to practice that line of defense several times until Castiel felt that Dean had successfully grasped this concept. Satisfied, he nodded to the duffel left on the floor in the corner of the room.  


“I’ve got some water in there; you should grab yourself a bottle.”  


Dean nodded, feeling grateful for the excuse to take the break. His arms felt like jelly and his shoulder was throbbing where Castiel had nicked him a dozen times.  


He grabbed a bottle, reminding himself to drink slowly so he didn’t throw it all up. He turned to face Castiel who was watching him carefully, his eyes narrowed at the sight. Dean smiled shyly, holding up the bottle as an offer. Castiel nodded, catching the bottle easily when Dean threw it over.  


The door opened capturing Dean’s attention as he turned and watched Jess as she walked into the room.  


“Oh good, you’re taking a break,” she said, as Benny followed closely behind, a deep frown plastered onto his face.  


“What’d you find out?” Castiel asked immediately, lifting the bottle to his lips.  


Dean watched his throat as he gulped the water down, momentarily mesmerized. He felt himself twitch with excitement again as he stared at those plump lips wrap around the tip of the bottle and found himself wondering once again what those chapped lips would feel like pressed against his skin.  


He shook his head, bringing himself out of his thoughts and turned back to Jess, catching Benny’s eye whose frowned had seem to deepen further, watching him with the same suspicion and curiosity as he had before. He blushed, immediately turning away from Benny, and stepped closer to Jess waiting for her to answer Castiel’s question.  


“He’s going up onto the platform on Friday,” she announced.  


Castiel coughed, spluttering some water onto the floor.  


“What?” he asked in outrage, as soon as his coughing fit subsided, “That’s only 4 days away!”  


Dean’s stomach dropped. Four days. That was it, all the time he had to prepare. How on earth was he going to pull this off?  


Jess frowned, “I know. But it’s actually more time than what Alistair wanted to give him.”  


Castiel scoffed, “Usually we give new recruits at least a full week to prepare!”  


Jess shrugged, “Alistair is bitter. He wants Dean to fail and he thinks that giving him less time will guarantee that.”  


Dean frowned at the words; he hated to agree with Alistair, but it seemed to him that the man had a point.  


Castiel’s shoulders drooped, “What did Gordon say?”  


“Gordon’s out on a hunt, so Christian filled in for the meeting. He wasn’t pleased with the way you claimed the kid for your own out in Main Town, so he was more than willing to let Alistair have what he wanted.”  


Castiel rubbed his temples, groaning, “Four fucking days.”  


“How’s he doing?” Benny asked suddenly, looking from Castiel to Dean.  


Castiel hesitated before shrugging, “He’s not bad.”  


Dean scoffed, “Hey, give me some credit. I’ve blocked plenty of your attacks!”  


Castiel rolled his eyes, “You have, but you lose focus quickly. If you’re having a difficult time paying attention to one opponent, how are you going to be able to handle three?”  


Dean bit his lip to prevent himself from blurting out that if his opponent wasn't constantly giving him a boner, then he’d have less of an issue.  


Benny nodded, and said thoughtfully, “So, we need to work on your focus…”  


Castiel looked up at Jess, annoyed, “It’s only going to cause more confusion if we add in more people now. I’m fine continuing his training on my own.”  


Jess rolled her eyes, “We’re not here to take a jab at your manhood. We don’t have many options. Four days isn’t a long time. You can finish out solo today, but we’ll want to add in another person tomorrow and a third the next day. He’ll want to warm up Friday morning, but then that’s it. It’s game time.”  


Castiel rubbed his eyes, admitting reluctantly, “I know.”  


The group stayed silent for a minute, before Castiel announced, “We need to continue his training. Was there anything else you wanted to mention?”  


Jess shook her head, “No, but let me know if you need anything…”  


Castiel waved his hand, showing he understood, throwing the bottle back towards the duffel and out of the way.  


He watched Jess as she left the cabin without a second glance.  


Benny hesitated for a moment before turning to Castiel, “I’ll meet you here first thing in the morning.”  


Castiel frowned, a soft growl leaving his lips, but he nodded in understanding, so Benny waved at Dean, and followed Jess out the door.  


“Alright,” Castiel said, drawing Dean’s attention back to him, “Let’s try this again.”  


\--  


The next two days passed by in a blur of punches, jabs, and taunts. The remainder of the first day had finished in a similar fashion as that morning had and continued through late into the night, with only a fifteen minute break to grab something to eat for dinner.  


The next day started early in the morning, with Castiel forcing Dean to go for a run with him before they did their workout routine together. Dean’s heart almost burst when Castiel had lay on the floor next to him as he did his push-ups, brushing his fingers lightly against Dean’s abs with his other hand resting on his lower back, claiming to help him keep correct posture.  


He found that he craved the other man’s touch, and wondered what he could do to feel those hands on him again. He’d never felt this attraction towards anyone before, and had absolutely no clue on how he should go about his day with this crush hanging over him.  


His current strategy was to ignore it, reminding himself he needed to focus on surviving the endurance round, not on coming up with plans on how to convince Castiel to press those chapped lips against his own.  


Benny had joined their practice the second day, which helped Dean immensely with his focus. He barely survived through the day, immediately collapsing in a make-shift bed Castiel had made for him so he didn’t have to attempt to curl up onto the chair anymore.  


On his third day of practice, he was faced up against Castiel, Benny, and Victor, giving all he had, and still finding himself coming up short. They’d been working at it all day, so Dean was grateful when he heard Victor call out, “Time.”  


He immediately hunched over, his hands on his knees, trying to focus on taking deep breaths.  


“You’re improving,” Benny spoke, watching him carefully from across the room.  


Dean looked up, searching for Castiel’s eyes, wanting his approval. He was disappointed to find Castiel watching him cautiously, as though he expected Dean to fall over at any moment.  


Which, to be fair, was a very real possibility.  


“I think we need to call it quits,” Victor said.  


Dean looked over surprised and gasped out, “What? No! I can keep going…”  


Victor shook his head, “It’s too close to the actual fight. You need to get some rest tonight. Make sure you have plenty of energy tomorrow. If you overwork yourself now, you’ll never make it.”  


Dean scoffed, turning to Benny who nodded in agreement, “He’s right. You know basic defense movements. You can review some techniques in the morning, but you should probably take it easy for the rest of the night.”  


Dean turned to Castiel, who was still quiet, watching him carefully, “What do you think?”  


Castiel hesitated, glancing at Benny and Victor before begrudgingly admitting, “They have a point. I don’t like it, but there’s not much we can do about it.”  


Dean’s heart dropped, “Do you think I can do it?”  


Castiel frowned, locking his eyes with Dean and staring deeply, as though he were searching into Dean’s soul. They stood staring at each other silently for several moments before Dean sighed, rubbing his eyes in frustration, knowing Castiel’s answer.   


No, he didn’t think he could do it. He needed more practice, more time.  


Benny patted Dean on the back sympathetically, before leaving with Victor. Dean followed Castiel out of the cabin, heading back to his room.  


Dean watched as he put his things away and started, “Cas…”  


Castiel turned quickly, his eyes looking at Dean painfully and said, “I need to go speak with Jess. Stay here. I’ll be back in a bit.”  


Dean watched in shock as he left him behind, alone in the cabin.  


“Damn it!” he called out, feeling helpless and hopeless.  


How the hell was he supposed to get through this? Not even Castiel thought he could do it! He paced back and forth in the quiet room, waiting for the other man to return. He jumped up and down, practicing some motions he’d been shown the previous days, feeling antsy, as time slowly passed by.  


After a significant amount of time had passed, Dean called out in frustration, marching towards the door to leave. He had to get out of there; he couldn’t stand being by himself any longer. He’d go to the Ramada, get some food, and hopefully wind down before the fight tomorrow.  


Perhaps he could even convince one of the other guys to sneak off with him and spar for a couple more hours.  


Dean walked out, taking a deep breath of fresh air, before heading in the direction of the food. The sun was setting, so it was getting darker, but Dean was pretty sure he remembered the way.  


He kicked a couple of stones, eyes down on the ground as he walked along the path. Was there any point in going on that platform now?  


“Well, well, well. What do we have here?”  


Dean’s head shot up, his eyes widening at the sound of the sinister voice.  


Alistair.  


The tall man stood at the edge of the pathway Dean had been walking on, with two nameless girls standing behind him, leering at the sight before them.  


Dean froze unable to take his eyes from Alistair’s face. What was he doing here? This was Jess’s camp; surely that meant he couldn’t actually do anything to him…  


Alistair stepped forward casually, “I’m surprised to see you off wandering by yourself at this time of night.”  


Dean stepped back, wanting to keep an even distance in between them, “Fancied a walk.”  


Alistair laughed chillingly, “And does Castiel know you’re gone on this walk?”  


Dean stayed silent, taking another hesitant step back, hating the sound of his unsettling chuckles bouncing off the cabin walls.  


_Stupid_. He was completely stupid for leaving the cabin without Castiel knowing.  


“How very interesting,” Alistair spoke, stepping closer to Dean more quickly that he had time to blink, lifting out his arms to trap Dean against the side of a cabin.  


“I’m so glad I ran into you, my pet,” he said, stroking the side of Dean’s face, and leaning in dangerously close, whispering in his ear, “I can’t wait until tomorrow when you’ll officially become mine.”  


Dean shifted awkwardly, shivering at Alistair’s breath against his skin.  


“Get off me,” Dean spoke through gritted teeth.  


Alistair hummed, running a finger down Dean’s chest, “Feisty one, aren’t you. That’ll make it all that much more fun when I break you.”  


His fingers brushed past Dean’s hips, inching slowly lower towards his crotch.  


He pushed forward, trying to get the man off of him, but he grabbed his arms, lifting them effortlessly over his head, and held them in place with one hand.  


“I think I’ll start with the carving knife,” he continued, as though he’d never been interrupted.  


He palmed Dean’s dick, causing bile to fly up Dean’s throat; but he swallowed it down, unwilling to let Alistair know how much he repulsed him. How was he going to get out of this one?  


“I’ll carve my name into this small cock of yours so everyone knows you’re mine,” Alistair sneered.  


“Fuck you,” Dean spat out, spitting onto Alistair’s face.  


Alistair growled, opening his mouth to retort when he was grabbed and pulled off of him, leaving Dean immediately relieved at the lack of contact.  


He blinked several times before he realized that Castiel had Alistair pinned against the wall, his hands closed around his throat.  


“My, my Castiel,” Alistair weezed, “Such a temper. Have I hit a nerve?”  


Castiel growled, “If you ever touch him again, I will personally cut you open and inflict the worst kind of pain you can ever possibly imagine.”  


“Sounds like something I would enjoy,” Alistair taunted.  


Castiel’s fingers tightened, his eyes narrowed and focused until someone coughed. Dean looked over, finding Jess standing next to Alistair’s people, her mouth in a fine line at the scene in front of her.  


Castiel took a deep breath and let Alistair go, stepping back begrudgingly.  


“Get the fuck out of here,” Castiel spat out.  


Alistair glanced at Dean before turning back to Castiel, straightening his top, “Don’t forget, Castiel. When he fails tomorrow, he’s mine.”  


Castiel stepped forward, “I would die before I let you get your hands on him.”  


Alistair chuckled darkly, singing out, “And what a wonderful day tomorrow will be.”  


He turned quickly, walking past Jess with a wave, his two members following closely behind him.  


Castiel turned on Dean as soon as he was out of sight, pounding his fist against the cabin wall, “What the hell were you doing? I told you to stay in the fucking cabin!”  


“I went out to grab something to eat!” Dean defended, “I didn’t realize Alistair would be lurking just around the corner.”  


Castiel grabbed Dean’s collar and pulled him closer, “When I tell you to do something, you do it. Do you understand?”  


“I didn’t know, okay?” Dean shot back, refusing to let this man bully him.  


Castiel’s fingers tightened, “I fucking told you. I should’ve known…”  


A hand appeared on Castiel’s shoulder, stopping him mid-sentence, “Castiel. Let him go.”  


Castiel lifted his hands up immediately, as though he’d been burned and stepped back, his eyes still glaring at Dean.  


“Are you okay?” Jess asked, stepping around so she was standing directly in front of Dean.  


Dean looked at her surprised, “What?”  


“Are you okay?” she repeated pointedly.  


Dean scoffed, not entirely sure why she was treating him like he was delicate, “I’m pissed off if that’s what you mean.”  


Jess shook her head, “What did he say to you? Alistair?”  


Dean was silent for a moment, forcing himself not to look at Castiel, “He told me what he was going to do to me when I fail tomorrow.”  


Jess nodded, not bothering to have him elaborate, “And did he…” she hesitated before asking, “Did you touch you?”  


“He had me pinned against the fucking wall,” Dean answered annoyed.  


“Dean,” Jess spoke firmly, “You know what I mean.”  


Dean gulped, staring down at the floor. He didn’t want to admit that Alistair had touched his dick. That he was the first person to ever touch him.  


“I'm going to kill that mother fucker,” Castiel growled, his fingers pulling at the edges of his hair, as a look of horror flashed across his eyes.  


“Castiel,” Jess barked out, “You are under no circumstances allowed to kill anyone. Get out of here. Go take a walk.”  


Castiel turned, looking at Dean intently.  


“No,” he said.  


“I’ll stay with him,” Jess said, reassuringly, “You need to cool down.”  


“No,” he repeated again, eyes never leaving Dean’s, causing goose bumps to run down his spine.  


“That wasn’t a suggestion,” Jess growled, “That was an order.”  


Castiel hesitated before he rushed past Dean, walking in the opposite direction of their campsite.  


She turned back to Dean, “What do you need?”  


Dean bit his lip before answering, “Food. I just wanted to get food.”  


Jess shook her head sadly, “No, I meant…”  


“Seriously,” Dean said again, knowing exactly what she meant. He wasn’t some delicate flower, he didn’t need her pity. He just wanted this fucking day to end. “I’m fine.”  


Jess frowned at him skeptically, but to Dean’s relief, chose to drop it.  


Dean followed her numbly to the Ramada, going through the motions of grabbing his food and eating, not because he was hungry, but because he needed something to do. His food tasted bland, and despite everyone else’s efforts to cheer him up (no one actually knowing what happened except for Jess and himself), he felt himself getting more depressed as the evening wore on.  


“I think I’m going to call it a night,” Dean spoke softly to Jess.  


She nodded, quietly leading him back to Castiel’s disappointingly empty cabin.  


He laid on his bed, staring at the ceiling for a full hour, his thoughts racing in the silence, before the cabin door finally creaked open. He quickly turned on his side, away from the door, facing the wall. He had no desire to deal with Castiel’s anger again.  


His body tensed as he felt another body sit down on the floor next to his own.  


“Dean,” Castiel spoke softly as his hand reached out and rested on his shoulder.  


He ignored him. Perhaps if he stayed still the other man would leave him alone and he wouldn't have to deal with another lecture tonight.  


“I know you’re awake,” Castiel continued, his thumb rubbing in circles, providing a small measure of relief against his aching muscles.  


Dean sighed, flipping back onto his back, staring back at the ceiling.  


“What happens when I lose tomorrow?” Dean asked miserably, Alistair’s words haunting his mind.  


Castiel growled, “You’re not going to lose…”  


He chuckled darkly, “You don’t have to pretend, Cas. I know I'm nowhere near ready for tomorrow.”  


“I’m not…” he started, but Dean interrupted, rolling his eyes.  


“Just humor me.”  


Castiel sighed, scooting to lay down on his side, his fingers never leaving contact with Dean’s skin.  


“Either you die in the ring or you’re knocked unconscious. If you fall unconscious, then you’re available for any group to claim and do what they want with you.”  


Dean groaned, his worst fears confirmed, “So I will become Alistair’s bitch.”  


Castiel growled, lifting himself over Dean’s body, forcing Dean to look into his eyes, blocking him in his arms. The position was similar to the way Alistair had him trapped earlier. He expected to feel the same horror, the same sickness as he had before, but instead felt safe with Castiel hovering over him.  


“I failed you once, and I’m not planning on failing you again. As long as I’m alive, Alistair will not touch you. I promise.”  


Dean tried to take comfort in the sincerity in Castiel’s eyes, wondering if he would be strong enough to stop Alistair, blatantly ignoring the fact that he seemed to think this was his own fault. It wasn’t Castiel’s fault, it was Dean’s.  


“But what about…” Dean started to ask, but Cas shook his head, his fingers stroking Dean’s arm comfortingly.  


“I don’t want you to worry about that. Just stay focused on tomorrow.”  


Dean closed his eyes, focusing on Castiel’s firm touch against his skin, massaging his sore muscles in his arm and shoulder, his fingers trailing up lightly to the side of his neck.  


“I’m not prepared. I’m not going to…” Dean trailed off, feeling pathetic. He was going to fail.  


Castiel’s fingers continued to travel along his neck until they tangled themselves in his hair.  


“I want you to look at me.”  


Dean begrudgingly opened his eyes, looking into the blue earnestly staring back at him. Any trace of anger that had been there earlier was completely gone. 

Instead, a soft smile and look of determination covered his face, as his fingers stroked through the strands of his hair.  


“You’re going to do just fine,” Castiel assured him, “I promise.”  


Dean leaned up into the touch, moaning softly, as he relaxed for the first time in over a week. Castiel’s hand stopped, so he looked up at him, noticing his eyes looked considerably darker than they had just a moment before.  


He licked his lips, pleased when Castiel’s eyes caught the motion, his own tongue slipping out unconsciously. Their faces were close; all he’d have to do would be lean forward slightly and their lips would press together.  


Before he could act on his thoughts, Castiel sighed dejectedly, closing his eyes, and resting his forehead against Dean’s. They laid there, breathing deeply for several breaths before he leaned back, jumping up onto his feet, and holding out his hand for Dean to accept.  


“What are we doing?” Dean asked, stubbornly keeping his hand in Castiel’s, feeling warmth run up his arm.  


“Training. I’m going to make sure you pass this test, Dean, if it’s the last thing I do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter, Dean goes up onto the platform! Hope you all enjoyed this part.
> 
> Thank you so much for your comments and encouragement. You make me light up the same way Dean does whenever he looks at Cas. :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's some lovely violence in this one (Some may think it's graphic, others may not), so I thought I would mention it as a warning just in case!
> 
> Onto the fight!

Dread encompassed Dean’s body as he stared at the platform in front of him.  


This was it: the day of the fight.  


His body was racking with nervous energy despite the fact that he received very little sleep the night before. After Castiel had pulled him out of bed, he’d taken him to train for an additional two hours before Dean collapsed on the mats, unable to go any further. He barely remembers Cas half carrying, half dragging him back to his own cabin before falling asleep on the floor, too tired to make it to his own bed.  


He woke up that morning in Cas’ bed, enveloped in his sheets in a complete cocoon or warmth and safety and a heavenly smell that could only be described as Cas.  


It took everything he had in him to convince himself to get out of bed, forcing Cas, who had fallen asleep in the armchair, to get up with him.  


They spent their morning stretching and going through their typical morning work-out, which Cas assured him would help him with his endurance. Figuring that Cas hadn't led him astray so far, he followed along, but not without complaints.  


When they were finished with their stretches (some of which were more difficult than running), Cas had Dean sit on the edge of the bed and he rubbed his shoulders and gave him some last minute advice, in an effort to try and help him relax a bit and give him more movement.  


Feeling Castiel's firm hands on his body was one of the best ways he could have started his day, although, he's not really sure how effective it was at relaxing him.  


Afterwards, they left the confines of the cabin and headed to the Ramada, where the whole gang (not just Garth, but all of them), erupted in cheers and called out words of encouragement.  


He had just barely sat down with the late lunch that Benny had forced upon him, despite the fact that he had no desire to eat, when Jess said brightly, “I’ve got good news and I’ve got bad news.  


“What’s the bad news?” Dean asked immediately, his stomach churning.  


“Gordon’s back and he wants in on the fight today.”  


Several people groaned, and Dean had a vague idea why. Gordon was one of the other gang leaders. From what he’d gathered, there were three gangs: Alistair’s, Gordon’s, and Jess’. While Alistair’s gang craved torture and Jess’ gang simply wanted to survive, Gordon’s gang was considered “self-righteous”. They believed they had a cause and a purpose and was willing to do whatever it took to achieve their beliefs.  


Dean frowned at the idea but Castiel simply waved his hand as though he were swatting his worries away, as he pushed a protesting Garth to the side so he could occupy the spot next to Dean, sitting close enough that their thighs were tightly pressed up together, 

“That’s not terrible news. Gordon is a cocky fighter. I have no doubts Dean will be able to block most of his attacks.”  


Dean looked down at his lap, trying to hide the smile that crept onto his face.  


“Who else is Dean going up against?” Benny asked curiously.  


Jess hesitated before admitting, “It’ll be me, Gordon, and Alistair.”  


Benny’s jaw dropped, “All three leaders? In the ring at the same time?”  


Jess flinched, “I know. But Alistair is insistent that he’ll be the one from their team. I’d usually send in Castiel, but since he’s been training Dean and he was the one who found him…”  


“It’d be considered a conflict of interest, yeah,” Benny finished, waiting for Jess to continue.  


“Originally it was going to be Christian going in, but when Gordon found out that Alistair was so interested in Dean, he decided he wanted to get in on the action.”  


Benny groaned, while Dean looked around confused, “Is this a bad thing?”  


“Dude,” the guy will the mullet who Dean learned was names Ash said, “you’re going up against the three bosses. You’re gonna get your ass kicked to the moon and back.”  


Dean gulped, feeling himself visibly paling, and nearly jumped when he felt someone’s fingers brush up against his own beneath the table.  


“You have nothing to worry about,” Cas spoke softly, his fingers softly stroking his own, “Like I said before: Gordon is a cocky fighter. He’ll completely underestimate you. And Alistair will be tough, but again, his arrogance will let you get ahead.”  


Dean nodded, taking deep breaths as he focused on Castiel’s soothing touch.  


“What’s the good news?” Castiel asked, picking through the bread on his plate to find the best piece with his free hand, pretending that nothing out of the ordinary had just happened.  


“Gwen is moderator.”  


Castiel nodded, satisfied while Benny sighed, “That’s great news.”  


“Why is that a good thing?” Dean asked, “Who’s Gwen?”  


“Gwen is one of Gordon’s members, but she’s fair, not quite as extreme and blood-thirsty as the rest of them. She won’t try to drag out the time any longer than what is allotted and she’ll step in if one of the fighters breaks one of the rules,” Victor explained, sitting across from Dean.  


Dean nodded, feeling a little more comforted at this fact, “Okay. That’s good.”  


The table was silent for a moment, Dean just focused on Castiel’s hand next to his before he asked timidly, “Could you run me through how this is going to go again?”  


“Well,” Garth spoke loudly, bending over the table to grab a piece of bread from Victor’s plate, much to his annoyance and popping the food into his mouth, “there are three timed rounds you have to survive. The first one is 5 minutes. The second one is 4 minutes. The last one is 3 minutes.”  


Dean sighed, reasoning with himself, “5, then 4, then 3. Piece of cake. That’s hardly any time at all.”  


“It’s going to feel a lot longer than what it really is,” Dorothy chimed in unhelpfully; sitting down next to Victor and reaching over to steal his other piece of bread.  


“Really?” Victor asked irked that his plate was now empty.  


She ignored him, happily snacking on her piece, and continued, “Fortunately, you get two breaks: one in between each round.”  


“How long are the breaks?” Dean asked, trying to get a clear picture in his mind of what to expect.  


“The first one is 2 minutes and the second one is 1 minute. Just enough for you to catch your breath and change strategies if necessary,” Benny answered.  


“And I’ll be able to talk to you during the breaks and let you know if there’s anything you need to watch out for,” Castiel spoke softly, intertwining their fingers and squeezing tightly in reassurance.  


Dean smiled weakly at Castiel, butterflies exploding in his stomach at the prolonged contact.  


“The whole thing only lasts for 15 minutes,” Ash spoke from Garth’s side, stretching his arms above his head, and shaking his long hair behind him, “You’ll kick it in the ass just fine, my compadre.”  


Dean sighed dejectedly, looking up at Cas thankfully when he scooted Dean’s food closer, reminding him he needed to eat, “You will do fine.”  


When Chuck coughed nervously, announcing it was time they headed over there, it was much too soon.  


He stood at the base of the platform, determined to ignore those who were passing by, eagerly shouting out words that were not so encouraging, and wondered, not for the first time, if he was fucking insane to have agreed to this.  


Why the hell was he doing this again?  


He looked back at Castiel who walked up next to him, pleased when he placed his hand on his lower back. He closed his eyes as he felt his hand glide smoothly up his spine until he reached his shoulder and squeezed it tightly.  


Oh yeah, that’s right. That’s why he was doing this.  


“Are you ready?”  


Dean took a deep breath, feeling more determined that he had before.  


He would get through these 15 minutes of hell.  


“Let’s do this.”  


He allowed Cas to guide him to the platform, trying to ignore the jeers and jibes from the crowd getting louder with every step.  


“Don’t forget,” Cas spoke suddenly, his eyes hardened as he willed Dean to listen carefully, “Alistair is bitter. He’d going to play nasty, so you need to watch out for him at all times. Gordon is selfish, and you can use that to your advantage. He likes a good fight and will sometimes forget who he’s supposed to be fighting. Jess packs a pretty good punch, but her real strength is that she’s quick. Keep them in your line of sight at all times and stay on the defensive.”  


His fingers reached out, brushing Dean’s side, fisting the material of his shirt lightly before leaning in and whispering in his ear, “Good luck. I know you can do this.”  


Shivers ran down his spine and he felt a sense of loss when Cas let go and walked down the steps. He forced himself to turn around and approached the only other person on the stage, a small woman with dark hair.  


“Dean, I presume?” she asked, stepping closer, holding out her hand.  


He nodded, “And you must be Gwen.”  


“That I am. I’ll try to keep these kids fair, but I don’t make any promises.”  


Dean stared back at her annoyed, “Great.”  


“Are you ready to start?” she smirked.  


“As ready as I’ll ever be.”  


“Alright,” she said, turning to the front and shouting out to the crowd, “Who’s ready for a fight?”  


The audience immediately cheered and hollered, their undivided attention turned towards the stage, hungry for the bloodshed to start.  


Dean took several deep breaths, refusing to let his panic surface.  


He needed to stay calm; to stay focused.  


“On the platform today, we have a new contender, fighting for his chance to become a Ravager: Dean!”  


Dean stayed still, unsure whether or not he was supposed to wave or acknowledge the crowd that was shouting at him. 

He scanned the audience quickly, there were only about 30 people there, finding the group he had spent the morning with, cheering wildly in his favor. He allowed himself to smile slightly back at them, their enthusiasm catching on.  


“Our first opponent fighting against him is: Jessica!”  


Dean watched Jess walked onto the stage, catcalls and whistles following after her. Cas said she was quick. If she fought anything like Castiel, then he wouldn’t be able to dodge quickly enough. He’d just have to absorb the punches to try and minimize as much damage as he could. He sincerely hoped she would take it easy on him, but as he watched her warm up, he thought that was very unlikely.  


“Next up is: Gordon!”  


Dean turned to the side of the platform where a tall, skinny black man walked onto the stage, waving into the crowd as though he lived off of their energy, confirming the idea that he was cocky and selfish, craving their attention. He would need to make sure that he blocked his attacks to prove he wasn’t as weak as looked.  


“Finally, we have: Alistair!”  


Dean shuddered as he watching the sneering man smile viciously at him as he sauntered onto the stage, as though there were no one else in the world but him and Dean. He had no doubts that he wouldn’t be playing fair and hoped that Gwen would be able to prevent him from causing too much harm. He’d have to make sure he stayed as far away from him as possible, just to be on the safe side.  


Dean took a deep breath, reviewing his notes in his mind. He could do this. He would not fail.  


“Let the match begin in 3…2…1!”  


A whistle had barely sounded when Dean found himself lying on the ground, someone having already jumped forward for the attack, kicking the back of his knee, causing him to drop.  


He looked up at Jess who was hovering over him.  


So much for going easy on him.  


Dean groaned, feeling self-conscious for having fallen so quickly as the crowd laughed at his expense.  


“Stay focused, Dean,” Jess growled, taking a step back, and rolling back her shoulders threateningly.  


Dean jumped up from the ground, getting into a defensive stance, and lifting up his arms, ready to block any and all incoming attacks. She was right, he needed to stay focused. He could do this.  


He made sure that he had all three people in his line of sight, and watched as they moved around him slowly, as though they were predators circling around their prey, trying to figure out how best they planned to devour him.  


He supposed that in reality, that’s exactly what they were doing.  


Gordon was the next one to jump forward, and Dean was able to easily block his attack. He was pleased when Gordon looked momentarily surprised, reminding himself to keep focus. He couldn’t afford to get cocky now. Gordon attempted to throw a second punch, to which Dean successfully blocked. Frustrated, he lunged forward at Dean, possibly to catch him off guard. Dean saw the move a split second before it happened and dove out of the way, immediately getting back into his defensive stance.  


Jess jumped forward, sending quick jabs into Dean’s sides and arms, not surprised when Gordon stepped forward, attempting to join the cause.  


He kept his focus on the two, going back and forth blocking their jabs. This really wasn’t too bad. He was actually doing pretty well.  


It was too late when it dawned on him that he couldn’t see Alistair.  


Dean gasped as he felt the wind knocked out of his chest, falling forward onto his hands and knees, having been attacked from behind. He let out a yelp of pain as a foot kicked against his ribs, desperately trying to gasp for breath. After a second kick, he rolled off to the side, attempting to avoid more attacks and forced himself up from the ground.  


“Oh, my pretty, pretty pet. What am I going to do with you?” Alistair spoke, stalking closer to Dean.  


_Don’t let him get to you._  


“I didn’t get my chance to really feel what you have to offer me. How naughty of you. I guess we’ll just have to wait until tonight.”  


Dean did his best to ignore Alistair’s claims, lifting his arm out to block his attack. As a second one came in, he jumped off to the side, rolling out of the way, despite the pain that shot up through his side. He needed to stay as far away from Alistair as he could.  


He backed up, satisfied when all three opponents were back in his line of focus. He blocked Jess, then Gordon, then Jess again, and finally Alistair one last time, before he jumped out of the way again, grateful as he heard the word, “TIME!”  


The three opponents stepped back, to let Dean catch his breath.  


“You have 2 minutes,” Gwen called out.  


Dean walked quickly over to Castiel who was standing at the edge of the platform, waiting for him.  


“Ho-how am I doing?” Dean asked, still trying to catch his breath, desperately hoping for some good news.  


“You’re fine,” Castiel said reassuringly, “Alistair and Gordon both underestimated you, as I expected. But you won’t have that luxury anymore. I want you to worry about them. Jess is going to leave you some nasty bruises, but she won’t knock you out. Gordon’s going to try and hit you as hard as he can, while Alistair will do anything to get you on the ground. Once you’re on the ground, it will be incredibly difficult for you to get back up, so don’t let yourself be pushed down there.”  


“Okay, I can do that,” Dean answered, knowing his time was up.  


“Just, play it safe. I want you to get out of way, and defend your position. Can you do that for me?”  


Dean nodded his head, holding onto the fact that he’d probably jump off a bridge at this point if Castiel asked him to.  


“ROUND TWO,” Gwen called out.  


Castiel stepped back, allowing Dean to walk back towards the middle of the platform.  


“Round two starts in 3…2…1!”  


This time, Dean was ready for Jess’s immediate attack and was able to block her leg from knocking him down. He barely had time to think before Alistair had joined her, throwing his attempt at Dean’s legs as well. Dean jumped out of the way, cursing when he stumbled back, falling right into Gordon’s path.  


Gordon sneered, pulling his fist back and aiming for Dean’s head. He ducked down before immediately jumping up to avoid Jess’s swings at his knees and turned around to try and get out of the middle of the circle, just in time to get hit by Alistair’s fist. He staggered back, his hand immediately lifting up to feel the blood seeping from his now split lip. He watched, horrified as Alistair raised his bloody knuckles to his lips and slowly licked some of Dean’s blood off his hand, his eyes never leaving Dean’s.  


Repulsed at the action, Dean stepped back wanting to get away as fast as he could, not realizing he was walking right into Gordon’s open arms, who immediately retaliated by elbowing him in the back of his head. Dean stumbled forward, seeing stars, trying to leap off to the side, only to get dizzy and fall onto the ground, blinking rapidly to try and gain his vision back.  


He yelled out in pain as someone’s foot connected with his side, reaching out his hands to try and stop that attack. The foot hit that same spot over and over again, hitting hard enough that Dean thought he heard a deafening crack. He tried to roll out of the way, but was stopped by Alistair, who leaned over him stroking the side of his face.  


“Poor, poor, Dean. What are we going to do with you?” Alistair taunted, his fist lunging forward, hitting Dean’s jaw.  


Relief only came when Gordon lunged forward, grabbing Alistair by the collar and attempted to throw him off, yelling that he wanted a turn of his own. While the two were preoccupied on each other, Dean rolled off to the side, feeling dizzy as 

Jess bent down and grabbed his arms, pulling him up off the ground in one swift motion.  


“Keep going, Dean. Round two is almost over,” Jess whispered in his ear, sending a solid punch to his gut that surprised him more than it hurt him.  


Dean swayed back before catching himself before he fell, holding his arms up in front of him, desperate to block any more attacks.  


Mercifully, Gwen called out, “TIME,” before anyone else could.  


Dean wanted desperately to collapse on the ground, curling up into a tight ball where no one could touch him, but instead forced himself to walk back over to Castiel who reached forward for him.  


“You have one minute!” Gwen called out.  


“Hey, look at me,” Castiel said, cupping Dean’s face in his hands and wiping some sweat off of his forehead, “you’re doing good. You really are…”  


“I’m not…I can’t…” Dean started, panicking as he realized he still didn’t have his full vision back.  


“You can,” Castiel assured him, his thumb lightly stroking the side of his cheek, “You’re so close now. Don’t give up. Not now.”  


Dean looked at Castiel, his eyes flickering from his blue eyes to his plump lips. Like hell he was going to die before he got a taste of those.  


With new found determination, he smirked cockily at Cas, trying to ignore the sharp pain running alongside his jaw.  


“There better be one hell of a party after this, Cas.”  


Castiel stared seriously for a moment, before his head fell back and he let out a loud laugh.  


Dean was taken aback, mesmerized by the sound. It was the first true laugh he’d ever heard Castiel have. He wanted to reach out and trace the wrinkles that bunched up around his eyes, and longed more than ever to capture those lips against his own.  


“That can be arranged,” Castiel assured Dean, his eyes still twinkling.  


“ROUND THREE,” Gwen called out.  


“Don’t get sloppy,” Castiel said, his face devoid of all emotion as though the last 10 seconds had never happened, “You can do this.”  


Dean nodded, “Of course I can,” he replied, and attempted to send a wink Castiel’s way, despite the difficulty is was given how swollen his face felt.  


He turned back to Gwen, pushing through the pain.  


He could do this.  


He would do this.  


He would become a Ravager.  


He’d go back to the cabin afterwards to celebrate.  


He’d get that smile and kiss that he longed for.  


He just needed to survive:  


One.  


Last.  


Round.  


“Round three starts in 3…2…1!”  


Fully expecting all three opponents to lunge at him, Dean jumped off to the side, pleased when Alistair and Gordon ran face first into each other, tripping over the other and falling to the ground. Jess easily jumped over the two, charging at Dean, aiming her jabs towards Dean’s shoulders, the place that had the least damage.  


He smiled as he watched all three opponents unwillingly block each other as they rushed to try and get their last few punches in.  


Dean easily blocked one of Gordon’s hits, then Alistair’s, and another one of Jess’ before taking a moment to glance over at Gwen. There couldn’t be that much time left; it had to be close to being over…  


As his mind turned back towards the fight, he watched as the scene in front of him unfolded in what seemed like slow motion. Alistair’s hand came through the onslaught, grabbing Dean’s shirt and pushing him down to the ground, immediately crouching down over him, his fist repeatedly punching his gut.  


Gordon joined in, aiming his shots at Dean’s face, forcing Dean’s to lift his arms to try and cover his face, leaving himself even more open for Alistair’s attacks against what he suspected were his broken ribs.  


This was it.  


This was how he died.  


“We are going to have so much fun tonight, my sweets,” Alistair taunted.  


Dean closed his eyes, a new found determination seeping into his body.  


_Hell_ no.  


He was _not_ going to give up. He would _not_ let Alistair win!  


He threw his fist out blindly, elated when he heard a loud yelp, and looked to see the damage he caused. Alistair’s fist faltered as he watched Gordon, who was now holding a bloody nose take a couple steps back. Dean used this moment of distraction to push Alistair off of him and jumped up, feeling adrenaline coursing through his body.  


Jess came forward, successfully blocking a couple of Alistair’s vengeful punches by throwing a few of her own. 

Frustrated, Dean watched in horror as Alistair grabbed Jess and tossed her to the ground as though she were a rag doll and charged forward.  


Dean staggered back into Gordon’s arm, immediately being grabbed him and pulled back, leaving him 100% defenseless.  


“10…” Gwen’s voice called out as Alistair stepped forward, cracking his knuckles and pulling back his arm.  


“9…” His arm lunged forward, punching Dean right in the gut, knocking out any air that he had.  


“8…” Dean called out, tears blurring his vision as the next punch landed on Dean’s already bruised and possibly broken ribs.  


“7…” Gwen’s voice barely registered in his mind, but he knew it was almost over. He had to get through this. He couldn’t give up now.  


“6…” Alistair punched the side of his face, causing his vision to alarmingly darken for a brief moment.  


“5…” He punched his face again, the same brief darkness coming over him that had been there before.  


“4…” There was blood streaming down his face onto his shirt. He gasped for breath, trying to regain his focus.  


“3…” Black spots started to appear in his vision as Alistair sent another punch to his gut. He couldn’t pass out now. He was so close!  


“2…”  


“You’re _mine_ ,” Alistair snarled, cracking his knuckles menacingly and pulling back his fist for his final hit.  


“1…” This was it. The final punch. There was no way he could survive this. He closed his eyes, hoping that Castiel would live up to his promise and get to him before Alistair could claim him as his bitch.  


“TIME!”  


Time stood still as he waited for the inevitable punch that never came. He cracked an eye open, shocked to find Jess blocking Alistair’s fist, a murderous stare on her face.  


“No more hits after time is called,” Jess reminded Alistair.  


Alistair growled at her, obviously internally debating whether or not he was prepared to fight.  


“Those are the rules,” Gwen said, stepping forward, looking nervously in between the two.  


Dean held his breath, waiting to see what happened. Alistair had knocked Jess down so easily earlier. If they got into an actual fight, how could she win against him?  


He was relieved when Alistair begrudgingly lowered his fist, stepping back, spitting at the ground where Dean stood.  


“No matter, I’ll just continue our playtime later this evening.”  


Jess stomped forward, and Dean had no doubts that if they got into a fight, Jess would come out on top, “He’s still conscious, asshat. That means he passed.”  


Alistair scoffed, “Look at him. There’s no way he can stand on his own.”  


The group turned to Dean eagerly, who was still being held up by Gordon at the time.  


“Let him go, see if he collapses,” Gwen ordered.  


Dean used all of his energy to stay standing, ignoring the searing pain the ran down through his spine. He took a shallow breath and stood as tall as he could, looking straight into Alistair’s eyes defiantly.  


“Better luck next time, bitch.”  


“We have a survivor!” Gwen called out, laughing disbelievingly, grabbing Dean’s arm and pulling it into the air, despite his groans of pain.  


Cheers filled the stadium; and Dean smiled when he heard Garth’s yodeling call louder than the rest of them.  


“Your services are no longer required,” Jess spoke to Alistair and Gordon coldly.  


Gordon nodded, leaving the stage, bitterly massaging his nose.  


Alistair hesitated before calmly replying, “You watch yourself now, Dean,” before turning to exit the stage, leaving the area entirely with several of his group members.  


“Alright, now, Jess, if you would do the honors...”  


Jess nodded, stepping forward as Gwen left the stage, holding her arms up to silence the crowd while Dean stood behind her nervously.  


“Ravagers are fierce,” she called out, “They’re strong, and brave, and never give up. They’re tenacious and all kinds of crazy. And they’re the best damn thing a person could possibly be.”  


The crowd cheered loudly agreeing with Jess’ definition of what a Ravager was.  


“Today, Dean proved to us that he’s as tenacious, and brave, and crazy as the rest of us, and I’m proud to announce that he’s earned the right to the mark of a Ravager!”  


The crowd broke out, cheering louder than Dean would have thought was possible, calling out a chant.  


“Mark him up! Mark him up! Mark him up!”  


“Castiel,” Jess spoke over the crowd, pulling out a long, serrated knife.  


“Will you do the honors?” she asked, as he stepped forward, onto the stage.  


Cas walked calmly to Dean as the room started continued chanting hungrily, louder than they’d been before.  


“Mark him up! Mark him up!”  


Dean stared dumbly at Cas, watching the blade wearily.  


Castiel paused holding up the knife in a mock peace offering, “I’m going to carve an R into your skin, now. Okay?”  


Dean nodded and lifted up his shirt. Castiel’s fingers reached out, lightly pulling down the hem of Dean’s pants to reveal a couple of inches of skin and caressed the spot over his hip bone.  


“You did well,” Castiel said, bending down so he was eye level with Dean’s hips, gently dragging the blade against Dean’s skin.  


Dean wanted to desperately to close his eyes, but was mesmerized by the action, and bit his lip, braced for the pain that was about to come.  


Dean whimpered as the knife cut into the flesh, deeply enough to leave the scar embedded in his skin forever. He took quick breaths, trying to focus on the warmth radiating from Castiel’s fingertips instead of the pain or the chants that had grown deafeningly loud.  


“MARK HIM UP! MARK HIM UP!”  


After several excruciating painful seconds, Castiel stepped back, smiling softly as he held his gaze. Dean looked down at the crude R carved into his skin.  


It was done. He was officially a Ravager.  


Cheers filled the room and Jess and Castiel’s gang jumped onto the stage enveloping Dean into their arms, chanting his name, and offering him words of congratulation.  


Castiel pushed some of them back, placing his arms around Dean protectively, and helped support him as he led him safely through the camp back to the Ramada.  


“It’s time to party!” Garth called out.  


“Rock on!” Ash added as he pulled out a bottle of vodka from a bag he’d been carrying around with him, holding it out for Dean to drink, promising it would help his pain.  


Dean threw his head back as he drank, desperate to do what he could so he didn’t pass out like he wanted to, eyes watering as the drink burned down his throat. He went into a coughing fit, regretting tasting the hard liquor as the coughing was making him feel worse.  


“My bad,” Ash said, lifting his arms up in defense, when Cas sent a glare his way.  


“Do you need to go back to the cabin?” Cas asked him softly, giving him the opportunity to bail out, but Dean shook his head gently.  


“Nah, I can stick around for a few minutes. It’s not that bad.”  


The next couple of shots he took were less painful than the first and he was surprised to find that Ash was right; his pain did seem to lessen.  


He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when he felt Cas’ arms wrap around him, lifting him up out of his seat, “C’mon, I think you should get some rest now.”  


Dean nodded happily, willing to go anywhere that Cas wanted to take him, and waved at the group as they walked away, ignoring the shouts of protest that Dean should stay.  


The moment they were in Cas’ cabin and the door was closed, Dean pounced.  


Euphoric bliss met his alcohol impaired mind as he tasted Castiel’s skin beneath his own (he’s not entirely sure he made it to his lips), and pouted when Cas gently pushed him back.  


“You’re drunk,” he stated, a small, amused smile creeping onto his face.  


“S’m not,” Dean argued, trying to bend forward for another taste. After what he went through today, he deserved this.  


Castiel snorted, picking Dean up effortlessly and placing him onto his bed, pulling off his shirt.  


“How are you feeling?” Castiel asked, his hands hovering over Dean’s chest, as though he wanted to examine Dean’s injuries but was scared of hurting him further.  


“M’ fine,” Dean answered, reaching to try and pull him closer.  


“Will you be okay until the morning?” Cas asked, ignoring his claims for obvious reasons.  


“’Pends on swat we do ‘night,” Dean slurred, seductively.  


Castiel chuckled, leaning forward to kiss Dean on the cheek, “Perhaps when you’re sober.”  


Dean opened his mouth to argue he was fine and knew exactly what he was doing, but got distracted by Castiel’s fingers. He nuzzled into the touch, his eyelids drooping and fell into a warm sleep, curled up into Castiel’s side, grateful that the pain he had felt earlier that day was a dull numb.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Dean is going to hurt so bad tomorrow!
> 
> Hope you enjoyed the chapter!! Let me know what you think in the comments!
> 
> Love you all!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the delay! Please enjoy this chapter!
> 
> Thank you!

Pain.  


That’s all Dean could focus on right now: the sheer amount of pain that was coursing through his body.  


It wasn’t the same pain as yesterday, when fists were flying at him from every direction; when he literally felt his ribs crack within his chest.  


This pain was constant; a throbbing ache that was likely never to leave.  


“Shh, you’re gonna wake him up.”  


“That’s the whole reason why we’re here, idiot.”  


Dean groaned as he narrowed in on the hushed voices. He couldn’t focus on whose voices they were. His head hurt too much for that.  


He lifted his arm, trying to block out the light shining red through his closed eyelids and the piercing sounds that assaulted his senses.  


“Rise and shine, sleeping beauty!” Ash called out.  


“No,” Dean replied hoarsely, turning his body away, further beneath the covers.  


“Oh, don’t be a baby!” Victor reprimanded, swatting at Dean’s foot.  


“C’mon, time to sit up,” Garth spoke, reaching forward and placing his hands on Dean’s shoulders to help prop him up.  


Dean whimpered as he forced his eyes open, blinking rapidly to try and bring the room into focus despite the constant pounding in his head and aching muscles that ran down his body.  


“See now, that wasn’t so bad, right?” Garth asked happily once Dean was propped against some pillows sitting against the wall.  


Dean glared at him with all the discontent he could muster.  


“How are you feeling?” Victor asked, smirking.  


“Like shit,” Dean replied bluntly, itching the side of his face.  


“Well, that’s fitting, ‘cause you look like shit too,” Victor replied, while the other two laughed in agreement.  


Dean ignored them in favor of attempting to look himself over. He was shirtless, so he could see the big purple bruises that covered his entire torso, along with blood and sweat caked onto his body.  


“Did you have fun last night?” Victor asked, pressing Dean to answer.  


Dean shrugged, wincing as he immediately regretted doing so.  


“Uh, at the party?” Dean asked, still not completely focused on the conversation. Why did his head hurt so much?  


Victor shot Ash a look, and replied, “We were thinking more about after the party…”  


Dean frowned, trying to remember what happened. Ash had given him alcohol, he told Castiel he wanted to leave, and after that they returned to the cabin. Dean blushed as he remembered jumping on Castiel and kissing him, before he was pushed off.  


_Fuck._  


He was a complete idiot.  


Why did he have to jump Castiel?  


Completely mortified at his actions, Dean forced himself not to shy away and hide his face from the group still waiting for his answer.  


“Uh, it was fine,” Dean said, willing his blush to go away.  


“Just fine?” Garth teased.  


Ash jumped forward, grabbing Dean’s sheet and lifting it up to look at Dean’s body underneath, “Well, he’s still got his boxers on, so it couldn’t have been that good.”  


Dean blushed furiously as he swatted Ash’s hands away, pulling the sheet up to cover his body more fully.  


“Nothing happened,” Dean assured the guys, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice.  


The three boys laughed, none of them believing him.  


“Is there a reason why you’re here?” Dean asked annoyed.  


It was bad enough that he’d been rejected by Cas, he didn’t need to be reminded or made fun of for it as well.  


“Just thought we’d check up on the new recruit, is all,” Garth said, sitting on the bed, crowding Dean’s space.  


“How nice,” he replied sarcastically, trying to scoot away from Garth as best as he could.  


Dean sighed in relief when the door opened, and Castiel walked in with a bag and a tray of food.  


He paused as soon as he was in the doorway, looking around at the scene in front of him. Garth was cuddling up next to Dean who looked as though he were in pain at the close contact, Victor was sitting at the edge of the bed, smirking at the two, and Ash was off in the corner, rummaging through the stacks of books Castiel kept around.  


Cas looked between all four, before hesitantly saying, “Good morning, Dean. I didn’t think you would be awake yet.”  


“I probably wouldn’t be,” Dean replied annoyed, looking down at his lap to avoid Castiel’s eyes, “But these chuckleheads had different plans.”  


Cas hummed, placing down the tray on his nightstand, “And, may I ask what you three are doing here in my cabin without my permission?”  


“Just trying to cheer up our new friend here,” Garth said, patting Dean’s shoulder, causing him to wince with each touch.  


Castiel swatted Garth’s hand away, making him move from his spot on the bed.  


“Well, I’m sure that your goals were successful and I find no other reason for you to stay.”  


“Aw, don’t be like that, Wings,” Ash said, abandoning his books and throwing an arm around Cas’ shoulders, “We’re just here to help.”  


“Somehow, I doubt that,” Cas rolled his eyes, pulling a small bag onto his lap and looking through it.  


“We just wanted to check up how your night went,” Ash continued, looking in between the two.  


“You’ve never inquired as to how I’ve spent my evenings before, and I find it suspicious that you would start to do so now,” Castiel replied bluntly, looking up as a slow awkwardness filled the room.  


“Well, boys, we don’t want to overstay our welcome,” Victor said, jumping up and beckoning Ash and Garth to follow him, “I think it’s time we leave these two boys to do whatever they have plans to do.”  


Ash and Garth snickered as they all called out good-bye, leaving Dean in the room with Cas whose head was cocked to the side, clearly confused.  


Dean sighed in relief, until he realized he was alone with Cas.  


Damn it.  


Dean continued to stare down at his lap, desperately wanting to avoid Castiel’s gaze. He hoped that the older man wouldn’t bring up last night so that they could move on.  


He already was embarrassed enough as it was, he didn’t think he could live through the mortification of Castiel reaffirming in the light of day that he was not interested.  


“I brought you some food,” Cas spoke, forcing Dean to glance up at him in response.  


Sure enough, on the tray, he’d gathered several different foods and a glass of juice. He grabbed the cup and held it out for Dean, who accepted it with a small ‘thanks’, and drank the liquid slowly, relieved that it actually did help him to feel better.  


Cas turned back to his bag and added, “I also have some bandages for you.”  


His eyes raked over Dean’s body, inspecting every bit of skin that was showing. Dean felt far more vulnerable than he had before and resisted the urge once again to crawl completely under the covers, hoping his blush wouldn’t be completely obvious to the other man.  


“Although,” Cas spoke thoughtfully, “It would probably best if you took a shower first.”  


Dean nodded, wincing at the action, but pleased at the idea of a shower.  


Cas frowned at the apparent pain Dean was in, and reached out to cup his cheek, “Are you feeling okay?”  


Dean froze at the other man’s touch. He knew he should probably answer his question, but he just wanted to curl up in Cas’ lap and let him take care of him. He forced himself to shrug, not trusting himself to speak and he focused on the feel of Cas’ warm fingers against his skin.  


Cas’ thumb stroked the side of Dean’s cheek, confusing him more. Why was he being so gentle with him when he’d pushed him away last night?  


“Perhaps you should eat something.”  


Dean shook his head, “I think I’d rather take that shower,” he admitted, needing a few minutes to himself.  


Cas nodded, standing up and holding out his hand to help. Dean struggled to sit up further, pushing his legs out of the bed, and placing his bare feet against the cool wooden floor. He stood up slowly, holding his arms out to help him balance and looked down at Cas’ hand which was still wrapped around his own.  


He took a step forward and felt his legs collapse beneath him, stumbling forward.  


Cas’ arm reached around and grabbed him, holding him up before he fell.  


“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Dean quickly assured Cas, before the question could be asked.  


This really wasn’t his day.  


Cas raised an eyebrow disbelievingly and held his arms in place.  


“Why don’t I help you for now,” Cas suggested, already stepping forward to lead Dean towards the bathroom. He sighed, allowing himself to be pulled along, secretly glad for the help because his entire body felt like it was on fire.  


Dean collapsed onto the toilet seat, taking steady breaths. Looking over, he saw a mirror sitting on the counter top and quickly grabbed it while Cas was turning on the water for him.  


He gasped as soon as he saw his reflection. The bruises on his face were darker than the large purple ones covering his chest. There was blood caked on his nose and chin, and his eye and lower lip were swollen.  


No wonder Castiel didn’t want to kiss him; he was hideous!  


Dean looked over at Cas who was watching him carefully as he looked over his body. Dean set down the mirror and stood up, waiting for Cas to leave the bathroom.  


Instead, he stood there, staring at Dean expectantly.  


They waited in silence for a moment before Dean finally broke, “Were you going to leave…or?”  


Cas opened his mouth before closing it and contemplating for a moment. Finally, he answered, “Would you like me to?”  


Dean shifted in his spot where he stood, unsure how to answer that. He desperately wanted him to stay there, maybe hop into the warm water with him. But, somehow, he thought that that wouldn’t be appropriate. After all, the man did push him away the night before.  


“I…uh…”  


“What I mean is, do you need me to help you? Or will you be able to shower on your own?”  


Dean flushed as he looked down at his feet. Of course that was why he wanted to stay. He was just trying to be helpful.  


“N-no, I should be fine. Thank you, though,” he stammered. He was barely able to contain himself when the both of them were fully clothed surrounded by a group of people. There was no way he’d have the self-control if Castiel were to join him in the shower.  


Cas frowned, almost as if he was disappointed, before his face turned back into its blank mask, “If you insist. I’ll be just outside of the bathroom if you change your mind.”  


Dean nodded, watching as Cas promptly left the bathroom, closing the door gently behind him.  


Dean quickly shucked his boxers, stepping into the steaming water, moaning unashamedly as the hot water splattered onto his skin. The pressure was the perfect mixture of pleasure massaging the knots out of his muscles and pain against his sore bruises.  


He grabbed the soap, feeling like a whole new person as each layer of dirt, blood, and sweat was scrubbed off his body. 

Already he could feel the fire subsiding and the pain in his head start to ease away. He gently slid his fingers down his chest until he reached his half-hard penis. He bit his lip, reminding himself that Cas was standing right outside the door and if he was going to do this, he needed to be quiet about it.  


He closed his eyes as his hand pumped along his shaft, imagining what might have happened had he said yes to Cas staying.  


Cas probably would have watched Dean get undressed, maybe have gotten undressed himself so his clothes didn’t get wet when he joined Dean in the shower to help wash him up. His hands would have grabbed the soap, working at his back and chest, massaging out the aches that plagued him. It would have been his hands that slid down Dean’s skin, and his hands that would be teasing his head as he kissed the side of his neck...  


Dean moaned as white spurts covered the shower wall, slumping over to the side to allow the tile to hold him up. He rested for a few moments, before rinsing off one last time and turning off the water, grabbing a towel that Cas had left for him as he stepped out onto the worn tiled floor.  


He realized he hadn’t grabbed any clothes and wrapped the towel around his waist, being careful to tie it below the carved R which slightly stung from the soap Dean had used.  


He took a deep breath; feeling more exposed than he had before when he was only in his boxers and stepped out into the room, biting his lip in embarrassment when Castiel paused to really stare at his body. Even with his clean skin, he still had bruises everywhere, and compared to Castiel’s toned chest, Dean couldn’t help but feel self-conscious at his lack of muscles. 

He took a step forward hesitantly, before Cas jumped up, placing his warm hands around Dean’s bare torso and guiding him back to the bed, instructing him to sit down so he could look at his injuries.  


Dean closed his eyes as Cas’ fingers gently pressed against his skin, wincing slightly anytime he brushed over a particularly tender spot.  


“It doesn’t feel like you have any broken bones,” Cas spoke softly after several minutes.  


Dean opened his eyes, finding Castiel’s face mere inches from his own.  


He flirted with the idea of bending forward to close the gap in between the two. But he couldn’t. He shouldn’t. Cas pushed him away the night before. He obviously didn’t want…  


The sight of Cas pushing his tongue out of his mouth, licking his lower lip, distracted Dean from all his previous thoughts. Why was this a bad idea again?  


The two jumped back as a couple of brief, yet hard knocks pounded at the door. Benny walked in, pausing for a moment to look suspiciously in between the two.  


“Am I interrupting something?” he asked, his eyes narrowed at the sight of Dean in nothing but a towel sitting on the bed.  


“I was just about to wrap Dean’s torso, and then he was going to have some breakfast,” Cas answered quickly, picking up the bandage and showing it to Benny.  


He nodded in approval, folding his arms and asked, “What’s the damage?”  


“Just cracked ribs and a substantial amount of bruising,” Cas replied, helping Dean to bend forward so he could wrap the bandage around his torso.  


“That’s actually not bad at all,” Benny said surprised, turning to Dean who was watching the exchange, “How’re you feeling, brother?”  


Dean sighed a noncommittal grunt. He wasn’t sure if he should be bugged at Benny for interrupting them when they were so close, or grateful that he prevented him from doing something stupid again.  


Benny nodded, as though he understood, sitting on the edge of the bed where Victor had sat earlier that morning, watching as Castiel finished up.  


“May I ask why you’re here?” Cas asked civilly, as he put away the medical supplies.  


“Jess wants to see you,” Benny replied.  


Cas sighed, glancing at Dean hesitantly.  


“I’ll keep the kid company while you’re gone,” Benny spoke happily.  


Cas stared at Dean, before nodding, “I’ll be back in a little bit. You’ll want to eat some food, try and recover your strength. The sooner you’re healed, the sooner you can start training.”  


Dean nodded, thanking Cas as he was handed the plate of food, pouting slightly as he watched him walk out the door. 

He turned to the tray on his lap, waiting for Benny to speak.  


“So, you regret your decision yet?”  


Dean smirked slightly, “Nah, I think I’ll stick around for a little bit longer.”  


Benny snorted, and they sat in companionable silence while Dean ate.  


“So, you and Castiel…” Benny trailed off, watching closely for Dean’s reaction.  


Dean frowned, lifting the tray up to place on the empty chair Cas had been sitting in earlier, “Castiel and I…”  


“You’re…you know…” Benny spoke, waving his hand around, as though that were satisfactory in explaining his thoughts.  


Dean waited, before prompting, “We’re…”  


Benny raised an eyebrow, “You’re together.”  


It took a moment before it dawned on him what Benny was implying. Dean’s eyes widened and he shook his head, “N-no. Why would you think that?”  


Benny frowned, “With the way you look at him…I thought it was pretty obvious.”  


Dean cringed at the accusation. _Shit_. If Benny thought he was obvious, what did Castiel think? He couldn’t risk Cas finding out about his crush!  


“Nope, you were mistaken,” Dean said quickly, trying to ramp down any rumors hopefully before they started, “We are most definitely not together. Not even a little bit. Last thing I’d want.”  


_Lies_. All lies.  


Dean was relieved when after a moment Benny nodded his head and changed the subject.  


The two chatted about non-trivial things for a couple of hours before Benny stood up, stretching his arms above his head and announced that he better head out. He promised to stop by later though, winking at Dean as he strutted out of the room.  


Exhausted, Dean took the chance to lie back down onto the bed, falling into a deep sleep.  


When he woke up, Cas was back, sitting curled up in his armchair, reading a novel.  


“Hey,” Dean spoke, shifting on the bed to sit up. Cas dropped his book, rushing forward to sit on the bed next to Dean, making sure he was okay.  


“How was meeting with Jess?”  


Cas shrugged, still looking Dean over, “It was fine. We were mostly just discussing a couple of future hunts we were planning on going on and about the next part of you becoming a member of our group.”  


Dean looked up, wanting to know more about what he was supposed to do next.  


“I think we’ll start training you while you’re still in bed, healing. Once you’re well enough, we’ll continue on with your physical training, throwing weapons into the mix.”  


Dean nodded, pleased at the thought, “Awesome.”  


Cas looked over his injuries again, his fingers just as gentle as before. When he was done, he handed Dean some more food, instructing him to eat again before returning to the armchair and opening up his book again.  


The two sat in silence for the remainder of the evening until Cas suggested that Dean try to go to sleep again.  


“We’ll start your training tomorrow. I want to do as much as we can while you’re still on bed rest.”  


Dean nodded; glad to not only get started, but to be able to have that distraction. He started to lift himself up to get out of the bed and return to his own when Cas put out his arm stopping him.  


“What are you doing?” he asked confused.  


“Heading to my bed,” Dean replied equally confused.  


Cas tilted his head to the side, “You should sleep in my bed tonight. It will be far more comfortable than lying on the floor.”  


Dean frowned. There was no way he could argue with that.  


“Where will you sleep?”  


Cas shrugged, unconcerned, “I’ll just rest in the armchair. It’s not a big deal.”  


Dean considered suggesting that they sleep in the bed together, but forced himself to stay quiet. He didn’t know how well Cas would receive that suggestion and if there were already suspicions of this huge crush he had on him floating around the camp, sleeping together would do nothing to put these rumors to rest.  


“Thank you,” Dean said instead.  


Cas smiled softly, before returning to his book, allowing Dean to fall into another deep sleep.  


\--  


Cas spent the next several days explaining the basics of hunting to Dean.  


He informed him that they usually hunted in pairs or groups and that their goal was to find the most valuable items possible. The most valuable items changed from hunt to hunt. Sometimes it was food (although he cautioned Dean to be careful with food, as spoiled food could be extremely dangerous and was always a risk), other times it was clothes and toiletries (apparently Chuck was obsessed with toilet paper), and often it was new weapons and ammunition (which were a lot more difficult to find). The value of an item depended on how much they had in stock. Chuck was in charge of keeping a list of all of the items they had in storage so they always knew what they had a surplus of and what they needed to ration.  


Castiel explained that they would either keep these items for themselves, trade with the other Ravagers for items they had scavenged, or sold them to a traveling salesman, Crowley. Crowley would come to visit their compound once every other month.  


He also explained that on the off months, they would send someone into town to visit Ellen and stock up on additional supplies they may need (which usually included food). Apparently, Ellen and her crew didn’t normally like working with Ravagers, but she had a soft spot for Cas’ group, and would help them more often than not.  


As he listened, Dean was surprised at how organized and civilized the Ravagers were. He’d always assumed they survived off of the items they stole and never considered that they would conduct other business as well.  


Cas was able to explain to him more about the treaty, how it was there to protect each group. The other Ravagers weren’t allowed to harm or steal any items from another Ravaging group. The group leaders, Jess, Alistair, and Gordon, often met together to ensure that each group was sticking to their own areas and keeping to themselves. Cas informed Dean that once they constructed these rules and put them into place, their compound had been civilized and much more pleasant to live in. It was perfect, but it worked for them.  


Dean listened eagerly to Castiel’s instructions, repeating several things and making mental notes so he didn’t forget. He desperately wanted to become an official member of their gang. He wanted to bear their tattoo and go on hunts.  


It was late at night and Cas had just finished explaining the rundown of what a normal hunt consisted (traveling to the site, always staying in partners, scavenge for items, return to the Jeep, return back to camp).  


Dean nodded, lifting his arms high above his head to stretch.  


“How are you feeling?” Cas asked, watching as Dean moved around.  


“I feel much better,” he admitted, scooting to the side of the bed and placing his feet on the floor.  


He stood up, bending down to stretch his legs; tired of being in bed all day. He stood up too quickly, blood rushing to his head, and stumbled slightly, blinking rapidly as he tried to get rid of the black spots in his vision. Cas, seeing the stumble, quickly jumped up, placing his hands on Dean’s hips to help steady him.  


“Thanks,” Dean said awkwardly, his vision returning back to normal, “Stood up too quickly.”  


“I saw that,” Cas replied, slightly amused.  


Dean looked up at Cas’ face which was just a few inches from his own, hyper aware of his hands pressed against his body. The last few days had been torture for him, being so close to Cas and not being able to touch him. And Cas hadn’t done anything to help the situation. He’d been more helpful to Dean, never leaving his side, constantly brushing his fingers over his body to ‘make sure that he was doing okay’.  


Dean stared at Castiel’s lips, licking his own as he tried to remember what they tasted like. He regretted that he was under the influence of alcohol at the time, and longed to press those lips against his again, determined to memorize the feel.  


He froze as he watched Cas’ tongue flick out, licking his own lips in response to Dean’s staring, much like he had before.  


Dean’s gaze rose up slowly to catch Cas’ blue eyes which were watching him carefully, but eagerly.  


He leaned forward slightly, waiting for the inevitable rejection to come.  


It never came.  


He wasn’t sure who made the initial lunge, but their lips came crashing together, moving fiercely against the other’s. 

Dean moaned in pleasure as he threw his arms around Castiel’s neck, weaving his fingers through his thick, messy black hair, pulling his face closer into his.  


Cas retaliated, clenching his hands tighter on his hips, pulling his body until it was flushed against his own, before pushing Dean back, onto the bed, climbing on top of him, his lips never breaking in rhythm.  


Dean sighed, happy as Castiel’s hands wandered down his sides, gently caressing his naked torso. He was suddenly glad that the man had insisted that he didn’t wear a shirt while resting, claiming that it made it easier to keep an eye on his bandage.  


Dean opened his mouth eagerly, as Cas’ tongue brushed up against his bottom lip, letting him deepen their kiss further.  


He had never been kissed like this before; had never wanted anything so bad. He was completely flushed with want and need, a fire burning throughout his body that had nothing to do with the pain he had felt earlier in the week. Going on instinct, he thrust his hips up into Cas’ body pausing when he felt Castiel’s dick through his clothing was just as hard as his own.  


This time, Cas was the one moaning, as his hips moved forward, rubbing their dicks together, his tongue still swirling around in Dean’s mouth.  


Dean was panting, unused to feeling the level of arousal that was coursing through his body at this moment.  


“Mmm, Dean,” Cas moaned out, and Dean was done for.  


He body tensed up, as he felt himself come in his boxers, harder than he ever had when he’d simply masturbated. He was amazed when he felt Cas’ body respond, his own orgasm coming through as well.  


Cas rolled off of Dean, collapsing in the spot next to him, not wanting to fall onto his injured body and make it worse. 

The two lay next to the other, panting as they tried to get their hearts to stop racing, spending the moments in silence.  


Dean’s mind was completely blank, only two words running through his mind as though they were on repeat.  


_Holy shit._  


“That was amazing,” he breathed out in awe, too blissed out to feel embarrassed.  


Castiel chuckled, before standing up and walking over to the bathroom, changing his pants and bringing some new boxers for Dean to change into.  


Dean frowned as he watched Cas stand awkwardly a few steps away.  


“You should probably get to sleep now,” the other man said defeated as he sat down in the armchair.  


Dean felt sick as he realized that Cas was planning on sleeping away from Dean.  


“You should sleep in the bed tonight,” Dean blurted out.  


Cas frowned, “Dean, I’m not kicking you out…”  


“I’m not leaving the bed. I’m inviting you to join me,” Dean replied, feeling his face flushed.  


The man had just given him an orgasm, surely that meant that this was okay now...  


Cas responded with a bright smile that warmed Dean’s soul and put all his worries to rest and quickly climbed into the bed behind Dean, pulling off his shirt as he did so. He wrapped his arms around the younger boy, who nuzzled his head into his toned chest. The two fell asleep, more content than they had in a long time.  


\--  


Dean woke up to harsh whispers. He blinked several times, trying to focus on the words, but was unable to do so.  


He looked around the room, disappointed that it was empty, and tried against to listen to the conversation happening on the front porch, behind the closed door.  


“…taking advantage…keep focus…”  
“…none of your business…completely absurd…”  
“…last thing…selfish…”  
“…how dare you…accusations unfounded…I’d never…”  
“…leave…for the best…”  


Dean lifted himself up, recognizing one of the voices as Cas’ and tried to figure out the other one. The voices stopped, both silent for several long moments before the door opened and Cas stormed into the room, not looking towards Dean’s direction, with Benny calmly standing in the door way behind him.  


“I have to leave for a bit,” Cas spoke sharply, as he grabbed a bunch of supplies, throwing them into a duffle bag.  


“Where are you going?” Dean asked, confused at the sudden departure.  


“To town,” Cas replied, zipping up his duffle and turning to walk out the door, not once looking in Dean’s direction.  


Dean stared after him, his mouth opened slightly.  


What the hell was that? What happened? Did Castiel regret what they had done last night?  


Any good feelings Dean had had completely disappeared. His stomach felt as though it were in knots and he desperately wanted to crawl back under the covers and pretend that none of this had happened.  


He looked over at Benny, who spoke as soon as he had his attention, “While Castiel is away, I’m going to start your weapons training.”  


Dean nodded, disappointed that Benny was going to be the one instead of Cas. He climbed out of bed, throwing on his clothes and followed Benny out of the cabin, his head looking down towards the ground, embarrassed and disappointed.  


Cas had to of been ashamed of last night. Why else wouldn’t he look at him this morning?  


Not wanting to think anymore, Dean put all of his energy and focus into aiming his gun, a rifle Benny was letting him borrow until he could get his own.  


Each day he improved substantially until he was hitting over half of his targets every time.  


“There’s room for improvement,” Benny would remind him, but praised him for how well he was doing.  


Dean found that he enjoyed spending time with Benny. They appeared to have a lot in common and he was easy to get along with. Benny didn’t ask too many questions about Dean’s life at the Orphanage, which he was grateful for. He didn’t want to think back to his childhood. He just wanted to learn to shoot.  


Two full weeks had passed before Cas returned back to the camp. Dean hadn’t realized he’d returned until he found him sitting at the table one morning, eating breakfast. He hesitated when he saw him, not sure how he was supposed to act. He was happy to see the man, but was disappointed at their last interaction together. Should he pretend like nothing happened? Ask how his trip was? Wait for Castiel to speak to him first?  


He sat down at the table, looking down at his plate of food, trying to avoid looking into the other man’s eyes when Jess spoke, saving him from having to decide, “Alright everyone. Now that we’re all here, I’ve got another hunt that we need to send a group out on.”  


Dean looked up immediately, sitting straighter in his seat. This could be his chance.  


“Give us the deets,” Garth said, leaning forward.  


“Sounds like a bunch of Croats invaded Bees Hill and wiped most everything out. The place has been completely abandoned. It’s crawling with Croats, so it’s sure to be a dangerous mission, but I have a feeling that it will be rewarding.”  


Jess looked around the group, humming for a moment before continuing, “I think that 4 of us should go. With it being a possible hot-zone for Croats, I don’t want to risk any more than that. Who ever goes on this mission needs to keep in mind that they should not take any chances. You get in, you grab the stuff, and you get out. Always stick in pairs. Understood?”  


Every mumbled in agreement. Satisfied, Jess nodded and turned to Castiel, “I’m guessing since you just got back, you’d like me to…”  


Castiel shook his head, jumping to his feet, “I’m fine to go. I can take a group with me.”  


Dean frowned, wondering why he was so eager to get away when he just got back.  


“Great,” Jess said, turning back, “It should take somewhere in between three and four days, depending on how often you stop for breaks. How about we send Dorothy, Victor and…”  


“I’ll go,” Dean spoke up, his heart racing. This was it: this was his chance to prove himself. He bit his lip as he waited for Jess’ reaction.  


She simply looked at him surprised and turned to Benny, “Is he ready for a hunt?”  


Benny thought for a moment before speaking, “He’s quite impressive with a gun. Better than Chuck is and he just barely started training. He’d probably be able to handle it. I could go as their fourth, Dean as their fifth. Stick around in a group of three for more protection.”  


Castiel shook his head, “No. Absolutely not,” he interjected before Jess could respond.  


Dean’s heart sunk. His hands began to shake in disappointment and nerves as spoke up, “Why not?”  


Cas turned from Dean to face Jess, “He’s not ready to go out on such a dangerous mission. He needs more time, more preparation...”  


“How would you know?” Dean spat out, embarrassed that he was being told no after he had taken the chance of speaking up, “You haven’t been around since I started training.”  


Castiel turned to Dean and growled, “You’re not coming, and that’s final.”  


Dean glared at Cas, unsure if he was more angry or embarrassed. What the hell had happened in between them? Cas was always the one who told him he could do whatever, and had been so uplifting before. What changed?  


An awkward tension filled the air, before Jess finally sighed, rubbing her temples, “It’s Castiel’s mission. He can decide who to bring with him.”  


Cas immediately answered, “Garth will be our fourth. We’ll leave in an hour. Meet at the Jeeps.”  


He hopped up from the tables, storming off to prepare, leaving Dean to suffer behind.  


Dean looked down at his plate, feeling bitter when Garth patted him on the shoulder and said, “Maybe next time.”  


He jumped up, not daring to look at the pitiful looks anyone else was shooting in his direction, feeling mortified at Castiel’s response to his request.  


He rushed to the cabin, prepared to ambush the man and coax him into talking to him before he left. They hadn’t talked since that night they spent together and he couldn’t handle not knowing anymore. If Castiel regretted it, he wanted him to tell him. Sure, it would completely break his heart, but maybe they could go back to the way it was before.  


Dean flung open the door, stomping into the room, only to stop short when he realized the room was empty. Several papers were scattered and clothes were flung around, meaning Castiel had already come and gone. Dean debated running out to the Jeeps to confront him there, but knew that wouldn’t be a wise idea.  


He hadn’t left the campground since the endurance round on Jess’ request. She informed Dean that Alistair couldn’t hurt him while he was in their campground, but until he had the tattoo branded onto his skin, he could still be attacked should he accidentally wander into someone else’s territory. He remembered what it had felt like when Alistair had cornered him before and shuddered. It would be stupid for him to race out into the open like that, despite how much he desperately longed to talk to Cas.  


He was just going to have to face the truth: Castiel didn’t want him. He had made a mistake kissing him, and now he hated him.  


Dean collapsed on the bed, putting his head in his hands, and felt a tear run down his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry that I made poor Dean cry. He deserves much more than that!
> 
> Thank you again for your comments and for the love that you continually send my way! You truly do brighten my day and I love hearing from each of you.
> 
> I also want to thank those who have left kudos. Every time I get another kudo, it reminds me that this story is here for people to read and motivates me to edit the chapters I have.
> 
> Since I went so long without an update, I'm hoping the edit the next chapter quickly and put it up by the end of the week. I'm not making any promises though. Just goals! :)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A warning for Dean's head space during this chapter. He's pretty down on himself and is slightly depressed.

Dean listened numbly to the shots ringing out of the gun he was shooting, barely feeling a moment of triumph when his bullets hit every single target.  


Benny told him he was a natural at this and would be out on hunts in no time at all.  


Dean merely grunted in response, and continued shooting.  


He hated this feeling in his gut that he didn’t quite belong. He’d never found a place that he could call his own before; a place where he felt safe. He had started to think that maybe here; he would finally find what he was looking for. But, after Castiel…  


Dean barely noticed he was panting when he put his gun down, rage flaming in his chest.  


Who the hell was Castiel to say that Dean wasn’t ready? He was hitting every damn shot, every damn time.  


There was a cough behind him, and Dean glanced back to see Benny watching him hesitantly.  


“You alright there brother?”  


Dean looked down at his shaking hands and immediately put the gun down, rubbing his sweaty palms against the rough fabric of his torn up jeans.  


“I’m fine,” he answered briskly, having no desire to stand there and talk about feelings.  


Fortunately for him, Benny seemed to understand this desire and didn’t reply.  


Dean looked down at the ground, shuffling his feet as the two stood in awkward silence, neither sure what they should say. He was tempted to turn around and pick the gun back up, but was stopped when he heard a shout coming from the other end of the yard.  


“Hey boys!”  


“Morning Jess,” Benny drawled, smiling as Jess walked up, joining the two, “What brings you by this morning?”  


Jess shrugged, “Just thought I’d see how training was going.”  


She turned to Dean expectantly who shrugged his shoulders, “I’m hitting the targets, so I’d say it’s good.”  


Benny laughed, “I’d say more than good, personally.”  


Jess hummed, nodding to the gun and asked, “Mind if I watch?”  


Dean stared at her blankly for replying, “Me?”  


She nodded, her eyes flickering with amusement. Dean gulped, reaching down for the gun and turning back to face the targets.  


There was a wooden block set up in the distance in the shape of human for them to practice on. Dean took a deep breath, standing with his rifle against his shoulder, feeling the buzz of anticipation.  


He closed his eyes for a brief moment, blocking out every sound, every distraction resting his finger against the trigger, gently caressing it.  


His body stilled, his eyes opening, determinedly staring at the target in front of him.  


He pulled the trigger.  


The bullet flew through the air, hitting the wooden man in his left shoulder.  


He took another breath, another shot, another hit; this one landed in the man’s stomach.  


The next shot hit the man’s right arm, and the one immediately after that his ribs right below where his heart would be.  


Dean took a deep breath, knowing that this would be his last shot. Focusing with all the energy he had, he aimed for where he wanted and pulled the trigger.  


“Damn,” Jess breathed as they watched the bullet burry into the wooden man’s head, “That’s quite an impressive aim you got there. For a beginner, anyway.”  


Dean preened at the praise, momentarily wishing that Castiel was here, until he remembered he was angry at the other man.  


He didn’t need his praise. Not one bit.  


“Have you tried moving targets yet?” Jess asked.  


Dean nodded, putting the gun away once against while Benny elaborated, “Yup. He hits about half of the clay pigeons I shot out into the air.”  


“Not bad,” she responded, “What about other guns?”  


“He’s shot a little bit with a glock, but I’ve had him mostly focus on using the rifle, since it’s probably the type of gun he’ll use 90% of the time.”  


Jess nodded in agreement, leaning against the railing, looking out into the distance, humming a nameless tune to herself before announcing, “I want you to meet me to spar first thing in the morning tomorrow. Otherwise, focus on moving targets for the rest of the day.”  


The two boys nodded in response, watching as Jess turned and walked out of the range.  


“You heard the lady,” Benny said, walking off to the side to grab the clay pigeons for their practice.  


When Dean returned to Castiel’s cabin that night, it was with a sore arm and a heavy heart as he lay in Cas’ empty bed, staring at the empty space next to him.  


Because, no matter how angry he was, he still wished that Castiel was there.  


\--  


Jess was waiting for him when he arrived in the sparring cabin the next morning.  


“Alright,” she spoke the second he walk in the door, allowing for no time to be wasted, “This is going to be much different that the endurance round you went through or the previous sparring session you had with Castiel. While those were all heavily focused on defense, I’m more curious how you’ll do on offense.”  


She patted some punching bags in the corner that were hanging from the ceiling and stated, “Show me your punch.”  


Dean frowned, looking in between her and the bag.  


“Really?” he asked skeptically. It wasn’t that he thought he was too good for this exersize, but he didn’t see how punching a bag could help him learn how to fight. Isn’t that what Jess was there for?  


She scoffed at his answer, “Yes, really. Now hit the damn bag.”  


Dean felt incredibly stupid as he curled his fist into a tight ball and swung at the stationary object in front of him, barely moving the bag from its place.  


Jess rolled her eyes at the weak attempt, “That was pitiful.”  


“Well, I feel stupid hitting a bag,” Dean admitted begrudgingly.  


Jess sighed, “I don’t care if you feel stupid. I need to be able to see how you punch so I can correct your technique. This is the best way to do that. Otherwise, you may hurt yourself, and heaven forbid you actually sustain and injury!”  


Dean watched Jess confused as she ranted. What was she talking about?  


Instead of elaborating, she signed and suggested, “Just, pretend that it’s not a bag. Imagine it’s a person; any person at all. Think of someone that you’re angry or upset with.”  


Immediately Castiel’s face flashed to the forefront of his mind. If there was anyone he was angry with right now, it would be him.  


“You got it?” Jess asked, stepping back when Dean nodded, “Now imagine this is them and punch.”  


This time, Dean thought about every negative emotion Castiel had made him feel over the past couple of weeks.  


Angry. 

Lonely. 

Betrayed. 

Worthless.  


He cried out, hitting the bag as hard as he could.  


But it wasn’t enough.  


Frustration consumed his body as he repeatedly attacked the bag, hitting harder each time he punched.  


He hated the older man that had taken him in and wormed his way into Dean’s heart so easily. 

He hated his gorgeous blue eyes. 

He hated his perfect smile and his gravelly voice that sounded as though the angels were singing. 

He hated his soft hands that would tenderly caress the side of his face. 

He hated how much he wanted him, and yet how it all made him feel more unwanted he’d ever been in his life.  


He was vaguely aware that with each punch he was increasingly cursing out, his slurs becoming more vicious with each hit. He threw one final punch to the bag before crumbling onto the ground, gasping for breath, and buried his head into his hands.  


Why wasn’t he enough?  


Jess sat down onto the floor next to him and waited for Dean’s heart to stop racing as he caught his breath before she asked, “Dean? I need you to be frank with me: what the hell was that?”  


Dean looked up and shook his head, “It was nothing.”  


Jess raised an eyebrow, “You and I both know that what you just did to that bag wasn’t nothing. So spill, or I’m gonna beat it out of ya.”  


Dean bit his lip, debating on whether he wanted to fight Jess on this before giving in. He had no doubts she really would beat him down if he refused to talk.  


Dejected, he tried, “I’m just frustrated about not going on the hunt, that’s all.”  


Jess hummed, staring at Dean unwavering, waiting for him to continue.  


He opened his mouth several times, trying to figure what else he could say, before settling on, “Just, what Castiel said earlier…”  


Jess finished the sentence, “About not going on the hunt because you weren’t ready?”  


He nodded, staring down at the hem of his jeans, “It just, made me think that I may never be ready…that I wouldn’t ever be good enough…”  


_For him_ , Dean added silently.  


Jess sighed, bumping her shoulder against Dean’s affectionately, “Don’t let it bother you kid. Castiel worries about you, that’s all.”  


Dean frowned at the idea, blurting out, “I highly doubt what he feels towards me is worry. Annoyance, maybe. Discontent, likely.”  


Jess frowned, “What gave you that idea?”  


Dean chose not to answer, not wanting to go into the details of his pathetic life. It wasn’t Jess’ problem, it was his. He’d just have to get over his ridiculous crush, and that would be the end of it.  


When it became clear that he wasn’t going to answer, Jess spoke softly, “Well, you’re punch isn’t bad, but it could be better.”  


Grateful for the subject change, Dean jumped up, shaking out his arms in preparation for their sparring, putting himself into what he thought was the correct stance.  


Jess bit her lip, sighing deeply as she shook her head, reaching out to move his arms and legs, “Here, let me show you.”  


The rest of the day his attentions were completely focused on learning how to fight.  


As him and Jess ended for the day, she hesitated at the door, turning around slightly and said, “For what it’s worth, I can assure you that any feelings Castiel may have towards you if far from annoyance.”  


She left Dean with those words, his mind racing and she tried to decipher what that meant.  


The only conclusion he could come up with, as he rubbed his bruises while walking back to Cas’ empty cabin, was that was in for another rough night.  


\--  


“Morning,” Dean yawned as he walked into the cabin, ready for another sparring session with Jess.  


To his surprise, she was waiting with Benny, the two in a deep conversation.  


“Morning brother; how’re you feeling?” Benny asked.  


Dean shrugged, “Other than the bruises from Miss Sunshine over there that I don’t think are ever going away, I’m actually pretty good.”  


Jess nodded, “Good, ‘cause we’re going on a hunt.”  


Dean’s jaw dropped.  


“What?” he squeaked.  


It had only been four days since he was rejected from going on the last hunt. He had suspected that another chance wouldn’t come up for several weeks!  


“Are you serious?” He asked again, waiting eagerly for an answer.  


“Yes, sir, Jess got wind of a hunt up north; thought we’d go check it out,” Benny answered, a small smile on his face.  


Jess continued, “It’s not really a big deal. Sounds like a caravan broke down in the desert yesterday and had to leave a bunch of their things behind so they didn’t get stranded. It should only be about half a day’s drive from here, so if we leave now, we’ll get back around midnight tonight. I don’t actually know how profitable this hunt is going to be, but I’m hoping we’ll find something of use.”  


“Croats?” Dean asked.  


While his aim was amazing with still targets, he could only hit about half of the moving targets during their practices. He didn’t think any Croats would stop and stand still to give him a chance to gun them down before they move in for the attack.  


“I doubt it,” Jess responded.  


“There’s usually no Croats in this area, so it should be a relatively safe hunt,” Benny added.  


“It’ll be simple. Get in, get out,” Jess finished, watching Dean carefully.  


He nodded, understanding what they meant. This was an easy hunt for a beginner to go on. Even he couldn’t screw it up.  


“Who’s going?” Dean asked, ready to go. He didn’t care how safe or easy the hunt was; he just wanted to get it under his belt. Once he did that, then he could be officially initiated into the group. The sooner they left, the better.  


“Us three,” Jess answered, gesturing to the three standing in the room, “For a hunt this small, normally I'd only send two out, but with this being your first time, I figured the extra back-up couldn't hurt. That work for you?”  


Dean nodded eagerly.  


“Good, get your stuff and meet me under the Ramada in 10 minutes,” Jess said, waving behind her as she left to cabin to retrieve her own items.  


“Dude!” Dean laughed excitedly, turning towards Benny with a bright smile on his face.  


Benny joined in, clapping Dean on the back, “I’m proud of you, brother: your first real hunt. You’re on your way to becoming a big boy now.”  


Dean rolled his eyes, his mood too elated to be bugged by Benny’s teasing.  


His first hunt.  


He rushed back to Cas’ cabin, grabbing a couple of empty duffle bags that were stored in the corner and raced to the Ramada, where Jess handed him a packet of food and a canteen of water.  


He turned to Benny, smiling when he handed him the rifle he’d been practicing all week.  


“We’re hoping to get you a better gun when Crowley comes into town,” Benny said, “but this should do for now. I highly doubt you’ll need it, it’s more for insurance purposes, if you get my meaning.”  


“That’s fine,” Dean said in awe, distracted by the gun now resting in his hands.  


He was going. He was really going.  


“Let's get moving,” Jess called out, grabbing her own things and leading the group out to the garage.  


The walk through the compound was riddled with nerves and excitement as they headed towards the garage. It dawned on him that this was the first time he would be leaving the compound in a full month. There was a slight pang in his stomach at the thought of Sammy, left behind at the orphanage, but he reminded himself that Sam was safe and okay. He couldn’t worry about him right now, he needed to stay focused on the hunt.  


When they walked into the garage, he was surprised to see the group that had left several days earlier unloading their Jeep. Dean averted his gaze, not wanting to look into Castiel’s eyes which were focused on the group.  


“Oh good, you’re back,” Jess spoke plainly, throwing her empty bags into another Jeep. Dean and Benny followed closely behind her, mimicking her actions.  


Cas looked in between the three of them, his face completely void of any emotions.  


“May I ask what you’re doing?” he asked in faux politeness.  


“What does it look like we’re doing?” Jess grumbled, checking the vehicle to ensure it was ready for their travels. Benny hopped into the Jeep, casually leaning back in his seat, glaring in Cas’ direction. The hostility on Benny’s face didn’t escape Dean’s notice. What was going on?  


“It looks like you’re going on a hunt,” Cas replied bluntly.  


Benny laughed, “Gold star for the Blue-Eyed Winged Man.”  


Castiel scowled at the nickname, but Jess spoke before he could comment, “Just a simple run. We should be back late tonight.”  


Cas hesitated before suggesting, “No need to take a group with you. I can go and…”  


Jess shook her head, “You just got back Cas, there’s no way in hell I’m letting you run off again. Go get some sleep.”  


Cas flashed his eyes in Dean’s direction, who was still frozen, watching the exchange, before begrudgingly saying, “Are you sure that Dean…”  


Dean’s heart dropped, not wanting to know how Cas was planning on finishing that sentence.  


Why was he so insistent that Dean couldn’t do it? What had happened in between the time he’d started his training to now?  


Fortunately, Jess spoke up before Cas could finish his sentence, “Dean is perfectly capable on going out on this hunt. I’ve made the call. He’s going, whether you agree with me or not.”  


Cas hung his head in defeat, letting out a deep breath.  


Jess nodded, satisfied that she’d won and hopped into the vehicle.  


Dean turned away to join them, when he felt a hand on his shoulder.  


He looked back to see that Castiel had marched forward, grabbing him before he could go.  


“What do you want?” Dean asked numbly, not wanting to know what harsh words Cas was going to throw at him now.  


How low was he willing to go to tear him down before throwing him out to the wolves? It was bad enough he thought so little of Dean, did he have to remind him?  


Instead of saying anything, he simply lifted his own rifle from his neck and strapped it around Dean’s torso. Several of the other members of the group gasped as they watched Cas tighten the strap around Dean’s body.  


“Just in case,” Cas said as an explanation.  


Dean nodded, unsure what he was supposed to say in response.  


This wasn’t even close to what he thought Cas was going to do. He glanced at the others in the garage who seemed just as dumbfounded by the action as he was, but he wasn’t entirely sure why. He opened his mouth to ask, when Cas leaned forward, his face hovering a mere inch from his own, stopping him mid-breath.  


Cas’ breath trailed up his cheek, caressing his cheek until his lips stopped right next to his ear. He took a light breath, before he whispered gently, “When you get back, I’m going to take you back to our cabin, throw you on our bed, and fuck you so hard you’re seeing stars.”  


He leaned back, kissing Dean’s lips softly, and walked away before Dean had any time to even think about what had happened.  


“You ready?” Jess called out, amused.  


Dean looked back, vaguely registering the looks of shock from the group that had come back with Castiel, the amusement on Jess’ face, and the scowl on Benny’s face before he nodded numbly, hopping into the Jeep, staring back at the spot where Cas had kissed him.  


They were several minutes away from the compound when the events from the past hour finally caught up in Dean’s brain, leaving him with one question:  


What the hell just happened?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the late update and the short chapter! I wanted this chapter to be longer, but this was the best stopping point for me, and I figured you would want an update sooner than later.
> 
> Thank you so much for your comments!! Every time I read one, I squee with much enthusiasm, which causes strangers to stare at me like I'm crazy.
> 
> Which I kind of am...
> 
> I really hope you enjoyed this chapter! I'm planning on updating soon! My hopes is to have the entire story edited and uploaded before Christmas!
> 
> Thank you!


	9. Chapter 9

_When you get back, I’m going to take you back to our cabin, throw you on our bed, and fuck you so hard you’re seeing stars._  


“You okay there, kid? You’re looking a little dazed.”  


Dean looked up, shaking his head as though he were trying to clear it, and turned his attention on Jess who was watching him carefully.  


His mind was racing from Castiel’s parting words to his actions over the past month, trying to figure out where he stood. He had saved his life by kidnapping him, trained him to defend himself, beat the crap out of him, pushed away his advances, took care of him, made-out with him far enough to cause him to orgasm, then proceeded to ignore him and belittle him, making it seem as though he were a child, before finally ending up informing he was planning on fucking him.  


His actions were erratic and his motivations unclear. Was he actually interested in Dean the way he was with Castiel? Or was he just some plaything the older man will pick up and play with whenever he fancies?  


“Dean?” Jess tried again, amusement seeping through her tone, “What’s on your mind?”  


Dean shook his head, turning away to look out at the horizon, lifting his hand to shield the bright sun from blinding his eyes. He didn’t want to talk about Castiel at the moment. He needed to stay focused on the upcoming hunt.  


Jess continued on, ignoring Dean’s silent request to be left alone, “I’d say you were concerned about the hunt if it wasn’t for the parting gift our handsome blue-eyed friend left with you before we parted.”  


Dean’s hand tightened where it rested on Castiel’s rifle nestled snuggly against his chest, his lips tingling from the ghost of Cas’ lips which were pressed there earlier. He forced himself not to reach up and brush his fingertips against the skin.  


“The son of a bitch had no right…” Benny mumbled under his breath.  


Jess rolled her eyes in response, not bothering to humor him in his complaints.  


But Dean perked up at the words.  


“What do you mean?” he asked Benny for clarification.  


He’d noticed earlier that Benny was rather short when it came to Castiel and when they’d kissed, Benny had looked upset. With the shock he’d felt, he hadn’t dwelled on the notion, but now that he thought about it, it didn’t make sense.  


Why would Benny be mad for how Castiel treated Dean?  


Benny glanced back at Dean, scoffing in disbelief, as though he wasn’t entirely sure why he was even asking.  


“I meant what I said. He had no right to kiss you like that. He should have just accepted that you weren’t interested and let it go. I warned him not to go pressuring ya into things you didn’t want to do…”  


Dean’s jaw dropped as he listened to Benny.  


“What are you talking about?” he asked incredulously.  


Benny looked back bewildered, “What do you mean what am I talking about?”  


The two sat in silence while Jess looked in between the two men amused.  


Dean hesitated, wondering where he should start first for clarification.  


“What do you mean when you say you warned him into not doing things?”  


Benny looked back proudly, “I noticed he was pushing you into some things I guessed you weren’t comfortable with, so I told him to back off.”  


Dean asked calmly, “And when was this?”  


Benny shrugged, “A couple weeks ago. Before we started your training.”  


Dean’s heart dropped, remembering the conversation he’d overheard parts of in between Benny and Castiel outside his cabin door right before Cas left. 

No wonder Cas had left in a hurry, Benny had told him to leave.  


“Why would you do that?” he asked bewildered.  


Benny’s eyebrow rose confused, “Because when I went into the cabin that morning to see how you were doing, I noticed he had forced you to share a bed with him.”  


“He didn’t force me to do anything!” Dean shot back, “I asked him to sleep in the bed with me!”  


Benny looked back befuddled, “Why would you do that?”  


Dean scoffed, “Because we just had the hottest make-out session of my life and I really wanted to press my body up against his!”  


Benny sputtered at the revelation, swerving the Jeep slightly as he tried to process the information.  


“What? I thought you weren’t interested in him!” Benny answered back.  


“What gave you that impression?” Dean asked, thinking back to the past few weeks for why Benny would conclude that Dean wasn’t interested in Castiel. 

Not that it was any of his business anyway.  


“You told me that you weren’t!” Benny yelled out.  


Now it was Dean’s turn to be confused, “What? No I didn’t! When?”  


“Right after the endurance round,” Benny answered, giving Dean some time to think back, “I asked you if you and Castiel were a thing and you told me the last thing you wanted was to be with him.”  


Dean rolled his eyes, “I lied.”  


“Why?” Benny asked.  


“Because I didn’t think that he liked me back! And I thought that if he found out the dumb new kid had a crush on him, he wouldn’t want to work with me anymore. But, hey, doesn’t matter anyway, because you went ahead and made sure he stayed far away from me anyway. So, thanks for that,” Dean spat out, folding his arms and sitting back in his chair, pouting.  


The Jeep was silent, both Benny and Dean thinking about what the other person had said, while Jess sat mesmerized by the argument.  


When it was clear neither of them were going to speak up, Jess interjected, “He doesn’t think you’re the dumb new kid.”  


Dean scoffed, but she insisted, “It’s true! Castiel is rather taken with you. I mean, he went as far as to lend you his rifle. That’s practically a marriage proposal for him.”  


Dean looked at Jess skeptically, “Really?”  


Benny answered begrudgingly, “Castiel is extremely protective over his gun. The last time Chuck asked to borrow it, he threatened to slice his wrists, hang him from the rafters in the middle of the compound by his ankles, and leave him there until he slowly bled out for even thinking of approaching him. For him to have just handed his gun to you…”  


“…That’s huge,” Jess finished.  


Dean frowned, “So why would he lend it to me then?”  


Jess sighed, rubbing her temples, “Because he likes you.”  


Dean thinks that she muttered _idiot_ beneath her breath, but he’s not entirely sure.  


“So what do I do?” he asked miserably.  


“Well, first, Benny is going to apologize for interfering.”  


Benny opened his mouth to protest, but cut himself off when Jess glared in his direction.  


She continued, “Then, you’re going to forget about it while we out on the hunt. Once we get back tonight, you and Castiel can sit down like two consenting adults figure out what the hell you want.”  


Dean nodded: he could do that.  


They waited in silence before Benny coughed awkwardly, “Uh, I’m not going to apologize for looking out for you, because that’s what I was doing. I just saw a 16 year old kid, and I didn’t want you to get taken advantage of. But, I will apologize for not clarifying with you first.”  


Dean frowned and answered, “Man, I appreciate the gesture, but I can handle myself. If I need your help, then I’ll come talk to you. Otherwise, I don’t need you to come to my defense all the time. So, I suggest that we forget this ever happened, because I swear I’m growing breasts from all these chick-flicks moments, and we’re gonna move on.”  


Benny just chuckled, “Deal.”  


The three sat in companionable silence for the remainder of the ride. Dean tried to do as Jess suggested and clear his mind from anything but the hunt. 

Unfortunately, it was a lot more difficult that he’d expected.  


What was Castiel expecting?  


He’d told him he’d fuck him so hard he’d be seeing stars: did that mean that he wanted purely a physical arrangement in between the two? Was this a one-time thing? He had casually referred to his cabin as _our room_ , did that mean he wanted Dean to stay there with him? Was Castiel planning on pursuing some sort of relationship?  


His mind lingered on the picture of Castiel’s body hovering over his naked form; his fingers sliding down to caress his ass, and felt his dick stir with interest. He couldn’t imagine ever wanting anything more than for Castiel to have his way with him.  


Dean rubbed his temples, groaning into his hands, trying to clear his mind.  


He was grateful when Benny finally announced, “Caravan spotted ahead.”  


Dean leaned over to look at the site hit first hunt would take place. It appeared to be in a small abandoned town, with on run-down store and several crumbling shacks. Down the street there were a couple of wagons sitting in front of the general store, and another three resting in front of the homes. Dean assumes the town had already been scavenged, and there was nothing worth saving in the abandoned establishments.  


“Perfect,” Jess responded, turning back to face Dean, “Alright, here are the rules once more, rookie: stick close to the caravan and don’t wander off alone. We get in and out as quick as possible. Questions?”  


Dean shook his head and Jess reached back to throw her long blonde hair into a messy bun, “Great. Go ahead and stop the Jeep here. Benny, you go off to those wagons up ahead, Dean and I will take the ones just to the right.”  


Benny nodded, looking where Jess was pointing to and followed her instructions.  


Dean watched Benny for a moment as he wandered in the opposite direction, heading towards the general store a ways ahead before turning to follow Jess to the three wagons she’d said they’d take.  


“Start on the one in the back, and we’ll meet in the middle,” she instructed, jumping up into the first wagon.  


Dean walked along, looking at the large abandoned vehicles. He knew that people traveled with wagons because they didn’t have access to gas to power automobiles, but Dean shuddered at the idea for himself. He much preferred the smooth drive of a car over the clunky, wooden wheels, and hard floors of a wagon.  


He lifted himself into the back, much like Jess had done, and toed through the scattered contents to try and find anything that was worth salvaging. He opened up his duffle bag, grabbing what he could find.  


There wasn’t much (a can of beans, a bar of soap, a couple rolls of toilet paper, and some scraps of clothing), which was disappointing. Dean jumped down, looking around the cabin, noticing that Jess was already digging through the second wagon. He turned to join her when a flash of gold caught his eye.  


He turned to the shine, noticing there was something sticking out from the dirt beneath the wagon. He lowered himself onto his knees, crawling beneath the vehicle until he could reach the glint, immediately digging at the spot of disturbed dirt.  


His efforts were rewarded when he pulled out a small wooden box, with a golden clasp. Still on his hands and knees, he opened up the box, curious as to what was inside, gasping when he found it full of different colored jewels and diamonds. He leaned forward, eager to examine his find more carefully when he heard a light click.  


He looked up slowly and found himself staring down the barrel of gun.  


“Here’s how this is gonna work,” a low male voice spoke out, “You’re going to give me the diamonds, and I won’t kill you.”  


Dean slowly made his way out from under the wagon, the box nestled in the crook of his arms, his hands raised up awkwardly in defense.  


Shit.  


He glanced at the man, recognizing him vaguely, but not really knowing who he is.  


“Ever heard of finders keepers, asshole?” Dean asked bravely, subtly glancing to the side to see if Jess or Benny had noticed the exchange.  


“They’re not gonna come for you this time, Dean-o,” the man laughed cruelly, stepping forward, his gun still pointed at Dean’s head, “But, there is something else I’d take over those treasures in your hand.”  


Dean hesitated, unsure where the brown haired man was going with this, “Yeah? And what’s that?”  


He sneered, “You.”  


Dean frowned, “Hate to break it to ya, pal, but you’re not my type.”  


The man rolled his eyes, “Not for me, you insolent brat. If it were up to me, I’d shoot you on the spot. No, I’d bring you in and present you as a present for my master.”  


Dean heart chilled, knowing there was only one person he could be referring to, “Alistair.”  


Even the sound of his name caused chills to run down his arm, “Why does he want me?”  


“Beats me,” the man replied, “All I know is the boss gets what he wants. So, I’d watch out if I were you.”  


He pushed forward his gun once more so it was pressed up against Dean’s skin, “So, I’m going to repeat myself again. Is it gonna be you or the jewels?”  


Dean sighed in relief when a second click went off and he saw Jess standing behind the man, he own gun pressed against his head, “Lower the gun, Brady.”  


Brady frowned at the command, unsure what to do. The appeared to be at an impasse, none of them willing to be the one to make a move when they heard three gun shots ring out and a loud shriek.  


“Run! Get out of here!”  


All three of them turned their heads slowly towards the direction of Benny’s call. He was running away from the wagon he’d been searching, pausing occasionally to turn behind him and shoot at the half a dozen creatures chasing after him.  


Dean’s heart dropped.  


Croats.  


Dean stared at the monsters in horror, taking in their appearance which vaguely resembled human. Their flesh seemed to be rotting off the bones, their eyes sunken and hollow.  


In the moment of distraction, Jess hit Brady on the head, causing him to stumble down, and turned to shoot the Croat closest to Benny, shooting it straight through the head.  


Dean reached down for his own gun, when his eye caught sight of another golden gleam. Was it another small chest?  


Cursing to himself, he called out to Jess, “Cover me!” and dove beneath the wagon to furiously dig at the spot in question.  


“What the hell are you doing?” Jess screeched at him, ringing out several more shots.  


Dean ignored her, stuffing the second chest into his nearly full duffle bag, and glanced around, finding one more spot.  


“We have to go!” Jess screamed out, kicking up the dirt to signal to Dean his time was up.  


He dreaded leaving, wondering how much stuff was going to be left behind, but understood they had to go if they wanted to live. He scurried back out from under the wagon, stuffing the third box into his bag and zipping it up, scrambling for Castiel’s gun.  


“Get back to the Jeep!” Jess ordered, turning herself to head back.  


Dean nodded, hesitating for a moment, wondering if he should try shooting the Croats before heading after Jess. He had taken a few steps when something attacked him from the side, knocking him to the ground.  


Dean gasped, desperately trying to regain his breath, as Brady straddled him, pinning him to the ground, grabbing Dean’s bag of treasures.  


“Alistair thanks you for the gifts, pet,” Brady spoke, leaning back to get away.  


Dean leaned forward, punching Brady in the face as hard as he could and knocked the bag out of his hands out several feet out of his reach. There was no way in hell he’d let this man steal his stuff from him.  


Brady immediately retaliated, punching Dean in return, bending down to grab something from his belt.  


A flick of silver caught Dean’s eye and he attempted to jerk out of the way, horrified when he realized Brady had him completely pinned down. He was trapped.  


He screamed out as the sharp blade of Brady’s knife slid into Dean’s skin just below his ribs effortlessly.  


“Perhaps next time you will reconsider fighting back someone who is clearly superior to you,” Brady spat, hovering his face closely over Dean’s.  


“Fuck you,” Dean panted, trying to squeeze through the pain.  


“Don’t worry, once Alistair is done with you, I’m sure I’ll have a turn,” he leered.  


Dean opened his mouth to fight back when a shot rang out and red blood splattered onto his face and chest. Brady’s body dropped onto his own, increasing the pain from his stab wound, so he pushed him off, glancing at the now lifeless eyes that stared back at him.  


He pulled out the knife in his side and struggled to stand up, grateful when Jess wrapped her arms around him to help support him.  


“Benny, grab the bags and start the Jeep!” she called out, pulling Dean’s arm around her shoulders and half-dragging him towards the vehicle.  


Dean gritted his teeth, pushing through the pain and limped as quickly as he could, ignoring the blinding ache screaming from his side. The pain was worse than anything he’d ever felt, the worse combination of numb and agony.  


By the time they finally reached the Jeep, Dean was barely able to stand on his own. Benny reached up and half pulled Dean up into the seats, with Jess lifting him up to help. He collapsed onto the cushion, black spots clouding his vision, and felt the rumble of the engine start beneath him.  


Jess’s screams pierced through his skull and he vaguely registered that shots were still being fired, but he couldn’t focus on her words. He tried to lift himself up so he could help, but crashed back into his spot.  


He blinked several times, finding that his world was rapidly fading into complete darkness before being engulfed completely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next chapter! I only have two chapters left planned for this particular story. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed! If anyone is confused, I just want to mention again that I love Benny. I think he's fantastic and I think he'd be the one to look out for young Dean and make sure he's taken care of. Of course, in this case, he ended up making things worse...but that's what happens when no one talks to each other! :)  
> Whether or not he has a crush on Dean at this time is up for interpretation. ;)
> 
> Let me know what you think! The goal is to have the next chapter up by the end of the week and the final chapter up before Christmas! Thank you again for all your support! Your comments are bright and cheery and lovely and I want to sew them all together to make a blanket that I can just curl under and live in complete bliss!


	10. Chapter 10

Dean moaned as he shifted on the uncomfortable seats he was lying across. He forced his eyes open, trying to figure out where he was and what had happened. He stared at the inside of the Jeep as memories flooded his mind.  


Going on his first hunt.  


A glint of gold catching his eye.  


Digging in the dirt for the boxes.  


Staring up the barrel of a gun.  


Jess shooting at the Croats, yelling at him to run.  


Being blindsided by Brady as he raced towards the Jeep.  


And pain.  


Immeasurable amounts of pain.  


Dean’s mind quickly turned to his side, the source of the pain he remembered overwhelming him earlier, not daring to move any more than necessary in fear of making it worse. There was still pain lingering, but it didn’t consume him nearly as bad as before.  


He took several quick breaths, bracing himself for the agony he knew he was about to endure, and put his arms out, lifting himself so he was sitting up. “Uungh,” he groaned, panting as he leaned his head against the back of the seat, clutching the edge of the seat beneath him so hard his knuckles were white.  


Jess immediately turned around, taking in Dean’s appearance.  


“You’re awake,” she announced, watching his struggle.  


“Yeah,” Dean grumbled, moving his leg to the side to relieve some pressure off of his injury, “How long was I out?”  


“Several hours,” Jess replied.  


“We’re just about to the compound, brother,” Benny chimed in.  


“Great,” Dean replied unenthusiastic, rubbing the back of his head against the back of the seat.  


Sitting up now, he warily glanced down at his side, lifting his shirt to take a closer look. He was surprised to find that his stomach was wrapped up in white cloth. He looked up at Jess confused, sending her a silent request to fill in the blanks from the time he blacked out.  


“I stitched up your gash the best I could, considering we were in a moving vehicle, and put some alcohol on it to try and clean it and numb the pain a little. The bleeding has stopped the best as I can tell, but you’ll want to take it easy for a bit,” Jess answered Dean’s unasked question.  


“Thanks,” Dean replied surprised, wincing in pain as he poked the bandage.  


“It’s not great, and you’ll have one hell of a scar to show for it, but you’re not really a Ravager until you have the scars to prove it,” she shrugged.  


Dean felt a unreasonable burst of excitement. He had successfully lived through his first hunt! And he had battle scars! There was no way he wouldn’t be initiated into the group now. They had to. He had done everything they expected him to do. Even more, honestly! He could finally become one of them.  


“So what happened?” Dean asked, trying not to make it obvious how elated he was by his success – even if that success didn’t exactly come about the way he had originally thought it would.  


A win was a win, no matter the consequences.  


Benny spoke up, explaining, “Well, I went to check out the wagons next to the general store, like Jess told me to. Found a couple of great things too, when I heard a noise. I looked around the corner to check it out when I found a small group of Croats, huddling in the alleyway. That’s when I shot a couple of them and ran to get out of there.”  


“Once we got you into the jeep, Benny drove while I kept shooting. I think we got most of them, but we decided we had enough stash to consider the trip worth the time it took to get out of there,” Jess continued.  


Benny added tersely, “Plus, with your injury, we figured we should get back as soon as we could.”  


Jess smiled charmingly in Benny’s direction, before turning her attention down to the duffle bags scattered on the floor.  


Benny glanced back at Dean, catching his eyes in the rear view mirror and asked, “You feeling okay?”  


Dean grunted noncommittally, “Better than it was earlier, but still hurts like hell when I move too suddenly.”  


After a moment of thought, Jess said, “I’ve got some pain medication back in my cabin. We can grab you some before you head back to your cabin to rest up.”  


“I didn’t know we had pain medication!” Dean replied, surprised. That would have been nice to have when he had finished his endurance round. Instead, he was forced to drink tea and follow Garth’s yoga exercises ‘guaranteed to heal him faster’.  


Which, personally, he thought was a load of bullshit.  


Jess shrugged, “It’s set aside, only used in case of emergencies.”  


Dean frowned, but didn’t argue the point. He knew how difficult it was for them to come across medicine when he lived at the orphanage. He assumed it was even more difficult for the Ravagers. He guessed he should consider himself lucky she even considered getting stabbed a severe enough injury to warrant the use of pain medication.  


Jess smiled brightly, moving the conversation forward, “In other news, you did good today, Dean. Really good, actually. I’m sorry you got stabbed in the process. Not exactly a stellar first hunt.”  


Dean surprised himself by laughing out loud, “No, not really,” he admitted, before adding, “Although really, there’s no questioning what I signed up for now.”  


Benny snorted in agreement, while Jess beamed.  


Dean added, “Besides, it’s like you said: you’re not really a Ravager until you got the scars to prove it, right?”  


“So, you’re not quitting?” Benny asked, cautiously.  


“I didn’t think that was an option,” Dean answered honestly. Could he quit anytime he wanted? He thought this was a for life kind of a deal.  


“It’s not,” Jess answered.  


Benny answered in defense, “Just wanted to make sure you were doing okay.”  


Dean smiled softly at Benny’s words. Sure, he was still upset about the meddling he’d been involved in over the past few weeks, but Benny was a good guy. Dean was lucky to have him as a friend.  


Dean winked at Benny, “Nope. You’re stuck with me for the long haul, I’m afraid.”  


Benny rolled his eyes at the comment, but his shoulders relaxed, showing his relief at Dean’s good humor despite the situation he found himself in.  


Dean looked around carefully as they entered into the main gate, feeling a sense of liberation he never would have imagined coming back to this place. What had once felt like a prison was starting to feel like a home. He’d only been gone for a couple of hours and already he realized he missed the playful banters of the group at breakfast, spending time with Benny at the range, or even Victor, Ash, and Garth who went out of their way to tease Dean mercilessly.  


However, Dean tensed up when he saw Castiel and Chuck waiting for them in the garage. Castiel’s arms were folded, his lips in a thin line as though he were upset about something. Chuck, on the other hand, was nervously glancing in between the incoming vehicle and the strung out man next to him, as though he were waiting for the inevitable blow out that was about to happen.  


With all that had happened on the hunt, Castiel’s parting words to Dean had completely slipped his mind. He felt panic start to rise in his chest, realizing he hadn’t prepared himself. He didn’t know what was about to happen. How should he act?  


Dean looked up at Cas, catching his deep blue eyes, and sighed happily when Castiel’s shoulders dropped in relief and a bright smile crept onto his face. It was the kind of smile that Dean longed to see, with his eyes crinkly in the corners, and his perfectly straight teeth showing through his thick lips.  


His heart fluttered when he realized that that smile was specifically for him. That Cas was there at the garage to see him.  


And suddenly, all the things he had worried about just moments before, seemed to fade away from existence. It didn’t matter anymore. As long as he was with Cas, it would work out.  


As soon as the Jeep pulled to a stop, Cas stepped forward, eyes still completely focused on Dean.  


Dean started to lift himself up to meet Cas halfway, when the painful reminder of the hole in his side caused him to gasp and fall back into his seat.  


The spell the two had been under dissipated and Cas’ smile turned into a confused frown.  


He stepped up to the jeep, leaning over cautiously to look at Dean’s body, nervous about what he was going to find. Dean winced as he watched Cas’ face turn white at the sight of the blood seeped through his shirt. Cas looked back up at Dean, horror evident in his eyes, looking for reassurance that Dean was okay.  


Dean subtly nodded, hoping that Cas would understand that he would be fine.  


Taking what little comfort he could in the gesture, Cas turned to Jess and Benny and growled, “What the hell happened?”  


For the first time, Benny actually looked nervous while Cas glared at him, expecting an answer. He merely looked down at the ground, turning away to grab a duffle bag, not wanting to answer or face Cas’ wrath.  


Dean didn’t blame him. If he were on the receiving end of that look, he would probably pee his pants.  


Jess, on the other hand, shrugged her shoulders unconcerned, “We went on a hunt. Shit happens.”  


Cas looked at her incredulously, his hands starting to shake.  


Having a feeling that Cas was about to do something incredibly stupid, Dean jumped in, “We were ambushed.”  


Cas’ attention turned from Benny and Jess to look at Dean, jumping forward to help as he attempted to lift himself up out of the vehicle, gripping the edge of the door. He helped him to slowly lower his body down, his hands hovering over Dean to help steady him if needs be.  


“By who?” Cas demanded to know.  


“By some Croats,” Dean answered, grunting as he lifted a bag over his shoulder, moving Cas’ gun to accommodate the extra load. He shifted the bags around, making sure that there was no pressure against his side. He looked up at Cas, surprised the other man wasn’t objecting to the extra weight, only to meet the older man’s eyes, staring wide back at him.  


“You were attacked by Croats?” he asked tonelessly, his eyes giving away the fear he must have felt.  


“Croats aren’t what attacked Dean,” Jess replied back, causing Dean to jump at the sound of her voice. He had been so focused on Cas he hadn’t noticed Jess, Benny, and Chuck had joined them, forming a small circle.  


“Then what did?” Cas asked cautiously, looking in between the three, dreading their answer.  


“Some guy named Brady,” Dean replied, nonchalantly.  


It was obvious Cas knew exactly who Dean was talking about by the way his entire body tensed, hard lines creasing in his forehead. There was something fierce and primal in Castiel’s gaze that both terrified and aroused Dean in ways he never thought possible.  


Which, of course, reminded him of Cas’ promise for when he returned.  


Dean glanced down at his injury, wondering if it would prevent Cas from wanting to return back to the cabin with him.  


“And where’s Brady now?” Cas growled, pulling Dean’s thoughts back to their conversation.  


He realized he probably shouldn’t be thinking about sex when there were clearly some other issues that needed to be taken care of first.  


“He’s dead, Cas,” Jess assured him, forcing his attention on her.  


“Are you sure?” Cas challenged.  


Jess’ eyes narrowed, “I put the bullet through his brain myself. Yeah, I’m sure.”  


Cas took a deep breath and nodded, satisfied with her assurances, but quickly added, “This issue has gone on for much too long and needs to be taken care of immediately.”  


Jess nodded her head once, “I agree. I’ll set up a meeting first thing tomorrow morning.”  


Dean looked in between the two, trying to figure out what exactly they were referring to, trying to catch a clue by glancing at Benny’s expression as well. Disappointed that he learned nothing, he focused back on Jess when she suggested they head back to camp.  


He was surprised when Cas stepped back, letting Dean walk on his own. He had imagined Cas would hover over him, fussing over his injury, demanding he allow him to carry his things, or worse to carry Dean himself. Instead, he simply stood close to Dean’s side, their shoulders bumping occasionally as they walked along the dirt path.  


Dean wasn’t sure if he was disappointed or relieved by the lack of hovering.  


They walked in silence for a moment, until Chuck spoke out, “So, how was the hunt?”  


Dean, Cas, and Benny all looked over at Chuck, their eyes narrowed and full of annoyance.  


Chuck flinched under the onslaught and added, “I mean, besides the obvious.”  


“It was actually really good,” Jess spoke up thoughtfully, thinking back to earlier that day, “Dean is a natural hunter. He’s damn better than the rest of us are, that’s for sure.”  


Dean felt a rush of pride, and puffed out his chest slightly, feeling a light bump in his step at the praise, smiling as Benny nodded in agreement. Chuck simply looked in between the two skeptically.  


“Really?” he asked, looking down at Dean’s bloody shirt.  


Jess rolled her eyes, “Well, he needs a little bit of work when it comes to hand-to-hand combat, but when it comes to the actually scavenging, he did wonderfully.”  


Dean glanced over at Cas, trying to gauge his reaction at the praise being given to him, and was disappointed when he found no emotion on his face. He reminded himself that Cas was often closed off, and he shouldn’t take it personally, instead tuning back in to listen to Jess as she continued talking.  


“Dean found more valuable items in that piece of crap hunt than we’ve found in several months. Next time Crowley comes into town, we’re going to trade in and cash out big time. With this haul, I have no doubts we’ll be able to afford some fresh meat and fruits.”  


Chuck’s eyebrows raised high on his head comically as he turned to Benny, looking for a confirmation who simply smirked back, nodded in agreement, but otherwise staying silent.  


Cas continued to look forward with his blank mask, but his hand brushed up against Dean’s. Dean looked down, pressing his lips together to try and stop the smile that threatened to fly onto his face at the small amount of contact.  


That one small gesture from Cas was proving to be an effective distraction from the discomfort he was feeling from the ache in his side. He tried to focus on putting one foot in front of the other so he didn’t stumble over himself, grateful they were entering the camp.  


He longed for a shower and a bed.  


And Castiel.  


Preferably together.  


The moment the group stepped onto the campgrounds, loud cheers erupted, causing Dean to pause as he looked up at the remainder of their gang standing together at the entrance, holding up a crudely made sign that said, ‘Congrats on Your First Hunt!’  


Every one clapped and cheered as Ash yelled out, “Welcome ho-oh shit!”  


Immediately the cheers died down as everyone’s gaze followed Ash’s fingers, pointing out the blood caked on Dean’s shirt.  


“What the hell happened?” Victor asked concerned.  


It dawned on Dean for the first time that perhaps the rest of the gang had wanted him to come back successful as much as he had. He had been so concerned about looking out for himself, he hadn’t stopped to realize that others cared about him too.  


Looking at the concern etched so clearly on the other’s faces, Dean’s heart warmed at the group that had welcomed him so enthusiastically. He understood now why he had felt so relieved and comfortable when he returned back to the compound. It was because this really had become his home.  


“Just a small mishap on the hunt,” Dean answered Victor, a smile rising on his face at his realization that there were people who actually cared about him, despite the throbbing he felt, and assured them, “I’m fine. Really.”  


He nodded to the sign they were still holding up, pointing out the words and asked curiously, “What if I wouldn’t have come back?”  


Dorothy and Ash flipped the sign around to reveal the words, ‘My Condolences’.  


Dean laughed uncontrollably, reaching out to Cas’ arm to stabilize himself so he didn’t fall over.  


“Glad you didn’t have to use that side,” Dean wheezed out, his laughter finally subsiding.  


“Us too,” Garth spoke softly, obviously hesitant to believe that Dean was actually okay.  


Dean wondered how many people they had lost on hunts and due to other ailments. He couldn’t imagine losing any of the people he’d met, and he had known them for barely a month.  


He turned as he noticed Jess, Benny, and Chuck wandering off towards Jess’ cabin, while Cas stood faithfully by his side.  


Dean nodded off in that direction, “We should probably catch up with them. I can catch up with you all later.”  


The group nodded in agreement, and waved nervously as Dean and Cas walked slowly towards the cabins. The second Dean entered into the room, he dropped the duffle and rifle onto the floor next to the door. Although the walk hadn’t been very long, he was exhausted.  


Cas’ hands were immediately on him, as though he could sense Dean’s weariness, and guided him into the other room, sitting him down on Jess’ bed. Dean watched numbly as Cas lifted up his shirt, pulling it off over his head, and bent down to look at his injury, slowly unwrapping the blood soaked bandage.  


The other three wandered into the room behind them, carrying the remainder of the bags and sat down on the floor, sorting through the items.  


“So, what did Dean find?” Chuck asked curiously, still seeming to have a difficult time wrapping it around his head that Dean was a better hunter than the rest of them. 

Normally, Dean would be offended by the lack of faith on Chuck’s part, but as he glanced down at the bright red bandage being pulled off his body, he couldn’t help but think that Chuck had a point.  


“He found these,” Jess replied, holding up one of the small chests Dean had dug up, handing it over to Chuck.  


Cas looked over curiously, pausing when Benny walked over with a second chest, opening it so Cas could take a look inside as well, showing off the vast amounts of stones hidden away.  


“These are legit diamonds and pearls and gem stones,” Jess answered excitedly, pulling out the third box to look through them herself, “I have no doubt we can get a fortune out of Crowley for this.”  


“Crowley’s going to love these,” Benny agreed, as Cas turned his attention back to Dean’s waist.  


“How many boxes are there?” Chuck asked, his eyes sparkling at the haul in his hands.  


“Three,” Jess replied.  


“I can’t believe someone just left the out!” Chuck spoke, finally looking up at Jess amazed.  


“They didn’t leave them out.”  


Chuck squinted, “Then where did you find them?”  


“They were buried.”  


“In the ground?” Chuck asked surprised.  


Benny rolled his eyes, “Where else are ya gonna bury something?”  


Chuck’s face flushed slightly, but he didn’t take back his statement, waiting for a confirmation from Jess.  


“Yes, they were buried in the ground. I’m guessing when the caravan broke down, the members took all their jewels and valuable items and buried them, hoping that they’d be able to come back in the future to retrieve them. Mr. bloodhound over here somehow figured out where they were buried and dug them up for us!”  


Dean blushed and quickly spoke up, “I just got lucky…”  


Benny firmly shook his head, “No brother, that wasn’t luck. Trust me on this.”  


Dean smiled shyly, looking up at Cas who was gazing down on his with a look of pride and fondness covering his face.  


Chuck interrupted their stare off when he held up a book Dean had grabbed on their haul and asked, “What’s this for?”  


Dean’s blush deepened as he replied, “I, uh, thought someone might be interested.”  


He risked another glance in Cas’ direction, whose eyes were now full of admiration and what almost looked like longing. Dean smiled back, pleased he was able to get that reaction out of Cas, and wondered when they would have a chance to be alone.  


Fortunately, that moment came not that long later, after Cas had fully finished taking off the bandage and had finished closely examining Dean’s stitches, commenting to Jess that the stitching looked good.  


“I do know what I’m doing,” Jess replied huffily, throwing her hair back behind her shoulder.  


Cas had then grabbed a wet cloth and began to clean around the injured area, his hand pressed firmly against Dean’s thigh both as a way to ground Dean and distract him from any lingering pain.  


Dean wasn’t ashamed to admit it worked flawlessly, feeling a heat of arousal pool into his stomach and he longed for that warm hand to slide further up his thigh.  


When Cas began to wrap a new cloth around Dean’s waist, Jess stood suddenly, stretching her hands high up into the air before saying, “Chuck, Benny, let’s go grab something to eat. You two guys joining?”  


Dean looked up, realizing she was speaking to them and was grateful when Cas replied, “Dean should probably head back to the cabin to rest.”  


He turned to Dean, nerves clear in his eyes as he waited for him to confirm that this was what he wanted. Dean nodded in agreement, more than happy to go lie down, and waved at the other three as they left.  


“You did good today kid,” Jess spoke, pointing to a drawer in the nightstand next to her bed, “The medication I mentioned is in there if you decide you want some.”  


Dean nodded, smiling gratefully, thinking it would probably be a good idea to take something.  


When the door clicked behind the three who had left, it dawned on Dean that this was the first time he had been alone with Cas in weeks. All the nerves he had earlier came flooding back into his system, and he shifted on the bed, trying to calm his racing heart.  


He was surprised Cas couldn’t feel the deep pounding in his chest as he fastened off the bandage. Instead, he asked, “Would you like some pills?” jumping up to retrieve them no matter what Dean’s answer was.  


He cleared his throat and replied, “Uh, probably should,” not trusting himself to say much more.  


Cas handed him a couple of small white pills and a bottle of water, kneeling down on the floor in front of him as he waited for him to finish. Dean set the bottle on the ground next to him and waited patiently, wondering if Cas was going to talk about the past few weeks, or more importantly, that morning.  


Cas stayed silent, reaching his hand forward instead to run his fingers along Dean’s thigh, his other hand holding Dean’s hips steady.  


Dean closed his eyes, reminding himself that he needed to breath and spent a moment just feeling Cas’ warmth before he reluctantly said, “Cas, we need to…”  


Dean’s eyes flew open as he felt Cas’ lips crash against his own, his hand reaching up to grab Dean’s neck and hold him there. All coherent thoughts were thrown out the window, and Dean reached up kissing back with as much enthusiasm as he could.  


Their lips parted much too soon for Dean’s liking, and he opened his mouth to complain, when Castiel cut him off.  


“What we need,” the older man growled, sending shivers straight down to Dean’s dick which was already rapidly growing hard, “is to get back to our room. Now.”  


Cas stared at Dean intently, showing he wasn’t going to make a move until Dean gave an answer. He felt a surge of comfort that Cas was giving him a choice. That he could say no if he wanted to and the other man would back off.  


But right now, while Castiel’s hands were caressing his skin and his eyes bore into his own, saying no was the last thing he wanted to do.  


Dean bent forward; placing his lips softly against Cas’ and whispered, “Let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're almost to the end!! The final chapter will be posted on Wednesday, December 24th as a Christmas gift to all of you!
> 
> As a warning, next chapter will bring some sexy times and much needed serious conversations in between our two favorite characters, so I've increased the rating to Explicit in preparation for that.
> 
> Let me know what you thought of this chapter! I hope you enjoyed it.
> 
> I love you all!! You truly are the highlight of my day when you comment or leave kudos.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the final chapter! 
> 
> Warning: There is sex in this chapter (which I'm sure a lot of you are thinking "finally")
> 
> I have changed the rating of the story to Explicit in light of the content included in this chapter. 
> 
> Thanks!!

Dean stared down at his hand, which was intertwined with Castiel’s, wondering if he was dreaming. He was being led to their room.  


_Their room._  


He beamed at the idea that Castiel considered the room to be theirs. He still wasn’t entirely sure what was going on, or what was going to happen when they got there, but his dick twitched in anticipation. The way Castiel had spoken earlier indicated he would not be disappointed.  


With the pain pill slowly infusing into his system and the adrenaline and anticipation he felt being in Castiel's presence, Dean could hardly feel the pain in his side from his stab wound.  


His heart beat thick in his chest as he stepped forward following Castiel through the front door and into the cabin.  


Castiel turned around, surprising Dean when he grabbed his side gently and pulled him flush against his body into a tight hug.  


"I'm sorry," he whispered into Dean's neck, breathing in deeply, “I’m so, so sorry.”  


Well, this definitely wasn’t what he was expecting.  


Dean opened his mouth to ask what Castiel was sorry for, but the older man cut him off, pressing his lips gently against Dean's.  


This kiss was completely different compared to their previous ones. While the others were rough and desperate, this one was sweet. Dean's lips moved slowly against Cas’, trying to savor the moment.  


This is what he had imagined they were going to do. In fact, it was better than what he was hoping for, better than he could have possibly imagined.  


Which meant it was going to hurt that much more if Castiel turned away.  


The last thing Dean wanted to do was talk about his feelings. He desperately wanted to ignore the voice in his head, telling him this wasn’t going to last. That as soon as someone suggested Cas should back off again, he would be gone.  


And he knew with as bad as it was the first time, it would be near impossible to recover from a second time.  


But he wanted this. He wanted to feel Cas pressed up against him. He wanted to capture his lips against his own, to be pushed into the mattress.  


But that voice was there, loud and clear, taunting him.  


_Castiel doesn't actually want you. He's just using you. He doesn't care about you. As soon as you're done he's going to kick you out and stop speaking to you again._  


Dean took a deep breath, pulling away from Cas' tender embrace, wincing as he looked into the other’s curious gaze.  


He was officially an idiot.  


But, he had to know.  


"What are we doing?" Dean asked desperately, still not sure if he wanted to know the answer.  


Cas tilted his head, looking back questioningly, "We were kissing... "  


Dean rolled his eyes, rubbing them and turning away exasperatedly, "Yeah, I know that! I meant you and me? What is this?"  


Cas continued to watch him, his face devoid of any emotions. Dean wasn't sure if he was simply trying to protect himself because Dean pulled away, or if he really was unimpressed and indifferent to this conversation.  


Was this his answer? Was Dean just something for him to play around with until he got bored?  


"What do you want it to be?" Castiel asked.  


Dean growled, "Nuh uh, you don't get to put this back on me. You're the one who walked away before. Who actively avoided me for weeks! What's your game?"  


Castiel's shield dropped from his features, showing a range of emotions Dean wasn't expecting. There was understanding and perhaps guilt seeping from his eyes. But Dean want done talking. Now that he was getting this out in the open, it was like a fountain pouring through.  


"I mean, you're throwing off some pretty contradictory signals, man. You saved my life, and when I kissed you, you pushed me away, but told me to try again. So I did, to which you kissed me back and then proceeded to give me the best orgasm of my life, before walking out that door, only never to turn back. And I know that Benny told you to back off, but was it really that easy to chase you away? And yet, after weeks of silence, you come to tell me that you want me all of a sudden? What the hell? I can't sit here while you go on your rollercoaster of emotions, so pick a damn side and come talk to me when you've...Mmmphh!"  


He been so focused on his rant, he hasn't seen Cas slowly stalk forward, cutting off his words with another kiss, slightly more determined than before, but just as sweet.  


"I've made my decision," Cas breathed into Dean's mouth, guiding him gently backwards, further into the room.  


"I was scared and stupid and made a lot of choices that I regret," he admitted, slowly lowering Dean's body into the bed and hovering over him, “I listened to Benny only because he told me all the things I was already thinking. That you were too young, too smart, and too good to be with someone like me.”  


Dean opened his mouth to argue that that wasn’t even close to being true. In fact, he felt that it was actually the opposite.  


But, Cas spoke before he could, “I tried to stay away. To do what I thought would be best for you. But, I found that I couldn’t. I needed you in a way I’ve never needed anyone before.”  


His lips brushed against the others and whispered, "I want you. I've always wanted you."  


He lips wandered past his cheek and up towards his ear, peppering small kisses along the way before growling, "And if you'll let me, I plan on spending the rest of my days proving to you just how much you mean to me. I will never leave you, Dean, as long as you'll have me."  


Dean whimpered in arousal as Castiel nibbled on his earlobe. He closed his eyes, trying to regulate his breathing as he replied challengingly, "Prove it. Prove you want me."  


Cas leaned back, his irises shrinking in size as his black pupils grew. He kissed him again, his tongue brushing against his lips. Dean opened his mouth eagerly, willing him access.  


Castiel's tongue explored the inside of his mouth brushing over every spot it could find. Dean was so immersed, he didn't even feel Cas pulling off his shirt. He pulled away, lifting his own shirt above his head, and Dean moaned at the sight. He didn't think he would ever get sick of seeing Cas' body. Cas came back down, kissing Dean's chest lightly, crawling down his body, leaving behind long wet kisses. He paused at his nipples, hovering and breathing softly over them before lightly sucking.  


Dean's moans filled the rooms. He had no idea his nipples could be so sensitive. Cas left that spot much too quickly for his liking, continuing down his body, stopping to suck a dark bruise into his hipbone, just beneath his injury, being extra careful not to put any pressure on it. Dean shifted his hips slightly, looking for friction against his aching cock.  


Cas pressed a smile into Dean's hips, feeling the motion. His lips continued down, pressing kisses and sucking the skin around Dean's cock, never touching it. His breath lingered against the sensitive skin, causing Dean to whimper.  


"Cas," Dean whined, frustrated that Cas moved away every time Dean lifted up his hips in an attempt to get closer.  


"Tell me what you want Dean," Cas ordered, his voice deeper than usual.  


"Just touch me, " Dean demanded, refusing to beg.  


"Like this?" Cas asked, his teeth biting into the side of his thigh.  


"Or maybe this?" He tried again, running his hands up Dean's sides, slowly rolling the hard nipples in between his fingertips, sticking another spot into Dean’s thigh, a little higher than before.  


"Or perhaps this is what your wanting," he suggested, returning to hovering above Dean's cock, breathing lightly over the shaft, continuing to play with his nipples.  


"Cas!" Dean whined again, feeling a pool of arousal flare in his lower belly. He'd never felt this turned on before. He hadn't even imagined it was possible.  


He looked down, awed as Cas’ eyes captured his own. Cas' blue irises were nearly completely over taken by the black. He chewed on his lower lip, seemingly contemplating for a moment, just watching as Dean breathed deeply, trying to control himself, before he smiled wickedly.  


Dean barely had a moment to breath when Cas winked at him before completely encompassing Dean's dick around his plush lips, pushing down until he reached Dean's skin.  


"Fuck!" Dean called out, his hips bucking up at the contact involuntarily. The movement didn't seem to bother Cas, who simply retaliated by swallowing around his head.  


Dean gasped for air, closing his eyes as he reminded himself he needed to breathe. It was just too damn good. If he knew Cas' lips felt like this, he would have confronted him long ago.  


All too soon, his lips pulled off of Dean, his cock falling onto his stomach with an obscene pop.  


Dean whined at the loss, but watched carefully as Castiel leaned over, pulling something from the side of his bed. Dean gulped when he realized it was a bottle of oil, clearly intended to be used as a form of lubrication.  


"Me or you?" Cas asked, a crooked smile on his face.  


"For what?" Dean asked breathlessly.  


Cas' smile faltered for half a second before a soft look of fondness covered his features.  


"Do you trust me?" Cas asked instead.  


"Yes," Dean answered immediately, not a doubt in his mind. No matter what misunderstandings he and Cas had had over the past several weeks, he trusted Cas. That thought should scare him, but instead he felt relieved to have found someone as amazing as him.  


"I made a promise I would fuck you, Dean," he reminded him, "And that's what I intend on doing."  


Dean breathed in deeply, feeling nervous. He nodded his head, hoping that this didn't hurt.  


Cas must have seen his hesitation, because he leaned forward, capturing his mouth, kissing him deeply. One of his hands reached down, cupping his balls, and lightly running his fingers up Dean's shaft. The other, covered in lube, reached back, lightly pressing on the puckered skin. Dean moaned, focusing on the touches covering his penis, when he felt something enter his body.  


He gasped into Cas mouth, not sure how he should react. It wasn't painful, just different. Completely unlike anything he'd ever felt before. Cas continued to divert his attention, moving the fingers on his cock back up to his nipples, his finger entering into Dean's body fully, resting there while the muscles around it relaxed. He pulled it out, adding a second finger and repeating the process over, slowly thrusting the two in and out so he could get used to the intrusion.  


Cas looked at him again, smiling widely, "I think you'll really like this."  


Dean looked back confused, already enjoying what was happening far more than he thought he would, "What do you think I'll liii-kuuhh, fuck!"  


Cas' fingers brushed inside his body, causing ripples of pleasure to shoot up.  


Cas continually brushed his fingers past this spot, mercilessly. Dean knew he was sweating and whimpering worse than before. He called out when Cas added a third finger, switching in between thrusting and brushing against the pleasure spot.  


"Cas... Fuck... Please," Dean begged. He'd never felt so good and so needy before in his entire life. He wasn't even entirely sure what he was begging for. He just knew he needed.  


"Please what?" Cas asked innocently, sliding his fingers out and adding in a fourth.  


"Oohh Cas. Please. I...I need..."  


"What do you need, Dean?" He asked again.  


"You," Dean gasped out, "I need...you."  


Dean's eyes flashed open as Cas moaned loudly into the room. He noticed for the first the that Cas looked just as wrecked as Dean felt. The sight was amazing and he didn't think he'd ever get sick of it.  


He whined when Cas pulled out his fingers, but watched with eyes wide as Cas finally pulled off his boxers.  


"Holy shit," Dean breathed out, finally getting the chance to see Cas' body. He was even sexier than he'd originally imagined. 

But his cock was much larger than he'd expected. Was it going to hurt?  


Cas leaned forward, petting Dean's cheek and shushing him, offering words of comfort. It was then he realized he had asked that out loud, as he had started to panic. That was embarrassing.  


"I will never hurt you," Cas promised, running his fingers through Dean's short hair, "if you don't want to, we don't have to..."  


"No," Dean called out, reaching for Cas to make sure he didn't go, "I want this... I...I want you."  


Cas’ eyes rolled back as he let out another moan.  


"You're incredible," he told him, bending down to line up his cock against Dean's hole, "So beautiful and perfect."  


Dean didn't think those titles could be used to describe him, when they clearly belonged to explaining Cas, but he kept his mouth shut, tensing up, preparing for the intrusion.  


"Relax," Cas breathed against Dean's lips, kissing him tenderly.  


Dean felt his body slowly relax beneath him.  


He trusted Cas.  


Cas would never hurt him.  


Cas slowly pushed in, murmuring against Dean's lips, "Fuck. You're so tight. It's perfect. You're perfect."  


Dean moaned as Cas completely bottomed out. He was surprised to find that he liked it as Cas had promised. He felt full. And really good.  


He waited another moment while Cas seemed content just lying over him, pressing kisses into Dean's skin.  


"Cas..." Dean choked out in warning.  


Instead of teasing him, Cas immediately complied, pulling out and slamming back in, pressing in against his prostate.  


"Fuck. Cas. Yes." Dean called out with each thrust.  


Cas lifted his hand, wrapping his slender fingers against Dean's shaft and tugging a few times before Dean orgasmed, Cas’ name called out from his lips. It was only a few thrusts more before Cas came as well, calling out Dean's name in return.  


Cas collapsed, resting his head on Dean’s chest, while his body lay awkwardly off to the side as he avoided putting any pressure on Dean’s side, desperately trying to catch his breath.  


After a moment of silence, Dean let out a bout of laughter, unable to hold it in any longer.  


Even with a stab wound aching in his side, he could confidently say he had never been so happy.  


Cas looked up at him amused, "Feel good?"  


"Fuck yeah," Dean replied, coming down from his high.  


Cas pushed himself up off of Dean, walking over to grab a wet cloth, and began to wipe himself and Dean down, making sure to double check their activities didn’t hurt Dean further.  


"I meant what I said before," Cas spoke quietly, his fingers carefully tracing the trail of freckles splattered against Dean’s skin.  


"About what?" Dean asked for clarification, tiredly. With the orgasm and the pain medication, he could feel himself falling asleep right there.  


Cas kissed Dean sweetly before breathing quietly, "You're absolutely perfect, in every way. And I plan on spending the rest of my days proving to you just how much I need you."  


Dean closed his eyes, a satisfied smile creeping onto his face, "I need you too."  


Cas kissed his temple before crawling into bed beside him, pulling the covers over their bodies and telling Dean to go to sleep.  


He was out within the minute, the feeling of Cas' strong arms wrapped around him.  


\--  


The next several days passed by quickly. Castiel refused to let Dean get up and walk around, insisting he needed to rest to recover from his wound. Dean teased him that "refraining from extraneous physical activity" probably included not having any more sex. Cas assured him that this was most definitely not the case, seeing as he was doing most of the work anyway. He followed the statement with a mind blowing orgasm, and Dean couldn't find it in himself to complain against Cas' accusations.  


Everyone from the group came to visit him several times through out the week, asking for details about the hunt or offering congratulations on a job well done.  


The strangest moment was when Dean was speaking with Benny and Cas slipped into their cabin, blood caked onto his knuckled. Dean’s jaw dropped at the sight as he quickly tried to scramble out of the bed to make sure the other man was okay. Benny pushed him back in bed, excusing himself so the two could have a moment alone.  


Dean tried to ask Cas what had happened, but he merely smiled softly, caressing his thumb against Dean’s jaw and said, “You have nothing to worry about. No other Ravager will ever touch you again.”  


It wasn’t until a full week later that he had seen Alistair’s mangled face around the compound that he had put the two together.  


That night, Dean showed Cas just how grateful he was for him.  


Benny was particularly good about the change of relationship in between the two men. Now that he understood it was what they both wanted, and Cas wasn’t forcing himself on a young, naïve boy, he went out of his way to work with Castiel, taking the extra initiative to make sure Dean was taken care of. It really helped Dean feel better, watching the two men he got along with the best working together for his sake.  


If the others had noticed the change in Dean and Castiel’s relationship, they never brought it up. Dean wasn’t sure if they honestly hadn’t noticed anything different, if they simply didn’t care, or if they were terrified Cas would attack them for any unwanted comments.  


It was a full week before Dean was finally allowed to leave the cabin to head to the Ramada where the group was going to initiate him officially into their ranks. Although his side occasionally ached, he was feeling much better than he had the week before and was ready to get back out and do some more training.  


Castiel promised that they would spar together everyday, determined to make sure that Dean was never caught off guard like that again. He made plans to go out with Benny to shoot in the afternoons, and couldn't wait to try out the new guns they'd bought him when Crowley visited the week before. Dean had been disappointed he wasn’t able to meet the mysterious salesman, but Cas and Benny assured him that he really wasn’t missing out, and that Crowley was often an annoyance more than he was any help.  


Dean laughed as he sat under the Ramada, watching the antics of the others as they finally celebrated Dean’s first successful hunt. Benny and Victor were singing loudly while Ash sang out the guitar parts. Garth would attempt to yodel in addition, but was constantly dodging small pebbles being thrown at him by the others in efforts to get him to stop. (Although Dean had a feeling had they actually wanted him to stop, they would have made it so.)  


Jess had convinced Castiel to dance with her to the boy’s crude singing, and it was clear the latter has no clue how to. Every time he faced Dean, he'd shoot him a pleading look, but Dean would simply wink in return, allowing Jess to have her fun.  


Dorothy sat next to Dean, desperately trying to keep a smile off her face, and generally being unsuccessful, as she prepared her tools for the branding. She was going to be the one who inked the group’s tattoo into Dean's skin. They had decided that he would get his on his left pectoral, right above his heart.  


Dean reached down, grabbing another piece of food while he waited for Dorothy to finish getting ready for him. Benny had gone all out, traveling down to the roadhouse to get some fresh meat, claiming that Dean only deserved the best. The meat was savory and melted in his mouth.  


"You ready?" Dorothy asked him, pointing to a reclined chair she set up in a tent off to the side.  


"Let's do this," Dean replied, getting up from his spot and pulling off his shirt in a smooth motion.  


The others cat called and whistled at the sight of his bare chest, but he knew to ignore them now. He leaned back on the chair, taking deep breaths, ready for this to finally happen.  


He jumped slightly when someone's hand slipped into his own. He looked over, not surprised when Castiel smiled back at him.  


He was glad he was here. Although it had only been a few months since he'd left with Castiel, he felt like he belonged here.  


There were a lot of things he needed to do. He'd yet to send word to Sam, letting him know he was alive and safe. He needed to get better at fighting so something like this didn't happen again.  


But, as he looked down at his fingers intertwined with Cas' listening to the buzz of the needle and feeling it press against him skin, he knew he was happy.  


This is what he was meant to do.  


And damn it, it was going to be awesome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaand we're done!! Thank you so much for all of you who have read my story and followed the first part with me through the end. I'm so happy with all of the positive reception I've received. You are all wonderful. 
> 
> I am planning on continuing this story, however I don't have a definite publish date. I'm currently working on a couple of other projects, but I have several time stamps and part two completely outlined for this universe. If you liked the story, and the characters, I would recommend that you subscribe to "The Ravagers" series so that you don't miss when I update. 
> 
> Once again, I just want to thank all of you who read my story! You truly made this experience amazing for me and really warmed my heart. I'm so touched by those who took the time not only to read what I had written, but had spent two seconds to click on the kudos button, or a few minutes longer to write me a little love note. 
> 
> I love you all and I'm so grateful for you! Without you...there would be no point to do what I do! :)


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